The Belgaroth Shipyards was an expansive network of scaffolds, cranes, factories, docking bays and administration blocks.  While not as grand or as glorious as some of the galaxy’s great starship production sites, Belgaroth was an important one to the Vast Empire.

Pherik ‘Serpent’ Zail not only lived on one of Belgaroth’s orbiting habitation platforms, but his ship, the ISD Halcyon Warrior, was based at that planet, so he was familiar enough with the sight of the shipyards.  Now, however, he was going to get the chance to truly explore them.

As part of a scheme to increase engineering know-how among the Navy, select crewmen were being sent for week-long training sessions aboard the shipyards.  Zail, who had taken a keen interest in mechanics since joining the VEN, had leapt at the chance, and been delighted when Captain Mihawk had approved him.  Now he and about twenty other members of the First Fleet would spend seven days getting a real taste of how ships were constructed, so that they may better understand and repair them themselves.

Zail and the other non-coms (none of whom were from his own Halcyon Warrior) disembarked in one of the shipyard’s large hangar bays, and were greeted by a grey-skinned Sullustan and his goose-like G2 Repair Droid assistant.

“Greetings!” Said the figure in good Basic.  “I am Engineer 1st Class Yada Yenb, a Team Leader here at the shipyards.  You can all just call me Yada.  Accommodation here at the central hub has been arranged for your seven day visit, so I’ll lead you now to your rooms to drop off your bags, then we’ll get right down to some work.  Follow me!”

And off they went.

-----

The first day was hardly thrilling.  Yada, with the assistance of his droid, gave them a series of presentations in a small conference room, studying holos and schematics of small and mid-sized capital ships under construction at Belgaroth.  Zail found some of the theory and advice to be quite interesting, actually, and he made copious notes upon his datapad.  It was not until the start of day two, however, that the Petty Officer really began to feel engrossed in what was going on.

They met again in the meeting hall, and Yada stood before them, bright and cheery despite the early start time.  “Good day again, gentlebeings,” Said the Sullustan.  “Today we begin the practical side of your course.  G2, if you please...”

The dutiful droid activated the large holoprojector in the centre of the room, and a massive image of a Nebulon-B Frigate appeared above the heads of Zail and the other non-coms.  The ship was rendered predominantly in green, but as it rotated slowly, large patches of red were clearly evident.

“This is the frigate Shining Scythe,” Said Yada.  “As you can see, this vessel has taken heavy damage, due to an escort mission gone horribly wrong.  Not only have key systems been compromised, but the super-structure itself is in need of extensive repairs.  The fact that her captain even got the Scythe to us without it falling apart is a miracle.”

“That’s going to take a lot longer than a week to fix, sir,” Said one of the naval men, staring in horror at the savage beating that the frigate had taken.

Yada nodded.  “Indeed it will.  However, our main repair teams are working on other projects right now, and the Shining Scythe is going nowhere.  Since you good people could not possibly make the ship any worse, its ours to play around with.  For this task I want you all working individually.  I want each of you to visit the damaged areas in turn, investigating them, and then we will all meet back here at the end of the day to discuss your recommendations for how to fix the damage.  Any questions?”

There were none.

“Then let’s get to it!”

-----

Pherik felt a bit strange walking the decks of the Shining Scythe alone.  There was no one on board, and seeing the empty corridors unnerved him.  His own Halcyon Warrior, with its thousands of crewmen, was always a hive of activity, and one could never walk more than ten meters without passing another crewman.  The damaged Nebulon-B was a ghost ship by comparison, and Serpent almost thought he could hear the deck creak as he walked the hallways.

He had already conducted inspections of three of the six major damaged areas.  Most of the other non-com trainees were now heading to the main sensor array, which was nearest to the area they had last inspected.  Zail could not blame them for the logical route that they took around the Scythe, but Pherik was in a strange mood, and had chosen to select his destinations at random.

Besides, I’d prefer to do this alone, he thought.

He came to one of the heavier hit areas of the warship, the deflector shield generator located at the back of vessel, directly over the main reactor.  Serpent whistled as he saw the mess of blow conduits and collapsed walls in the corridor beyond, and was thankful that bulkheads had slammed shut in that part of the ship to prevent loss of atmosphere.  I wonder how many people died here, he could not help but wonder, and how many more would have died had those bulkheads not lowered and protected this entire deck from decompressing.

He pulled out his datapad and began making notes on the damaged areas he had access to.  Whatever pummelling the Nebulon-B had taken here was severe indeed, and it dawned on his tactical mind how obvious that should be.  With the shields and engines so close together on this capital ship, this whole area is a likely target in a fight.  Might as well paint a cross on the hull section here and be done with it!  Still, Zail made a mental note of the weakness, knowing how popular the Nebulon-B design was, both with other Imperial factions, and with the Rebels.

As he picked through the wreckage, seeing the twisted and melted parts of the exterior hull, Serpent noted that even the main superstructure here seemed weakened by the savage assault inflicted upon it.  What a mess!  Would I be out of line to just type ‘build a new ship’ in my recommendations?

Pushing his sarcastic thoughts aside, Serpent suddenly found his eye caught by a detail among the wreckage.  A wall panel had come lose in the attack, blown clear of its housing.  A smear of blood on one side indicated that some poor crewman had found himself in its way, and Zail hoped that the individual had survived.

Continuing his investigation of the section, he typed up his observations on his datapad, finishing with a rating of the area’s structural integrity.  According to the scale used by the Belgaroth shipyards (taught to the trainees by Yada the previous day), Pherik gave the shield generator’s deck an ‘8’.  In need of serious repair, but not quite to the point that he feared it would collapse under his feet.

From there he headed on down a few corridors, having to navigate a maze of closed off sections in order to reach his goal.  According to the map of the Shining Scythe, parts of the deck were open to vacuum, but not the central shield generator itself.  This Serpent was able to reach, and he stared at the entrance to the important room beyond.

It had been cut open from his side.

A bulkhead was lowered here, Observed Zail.  The generator suite has been cut open after its arrival at Belgaroth.

Tentatively, Serpent entered the large room, seeing it scattered with debris.  Computer screens, filled with diagnostics of the massive shield array system, flickered on and off, barely powered (the ship itself was devoid of its own power, but a temporary feed had been set up when the Nebulon-B docked at the shipyards).  The place was gloomy and stank of ozone and death.

Zail scanned his eyes about, and focused on the nearest display.  It showed the status of the deflector network, revealing the wrecked state of the generators and where the shields had failed for fully half the ship.  “What sort of pummelling did this to you?” He asked the silent room.

He ran his eyes over the system readouts, trying to get an idea of how much work the generators would require.  Pherik studied the assessment, shook his head, and typed another ‘8’ on his datapad.  Then he noticed something on the screen of the computer he was looking at.  What’s this?

There was a flashing icon on the screen before him, labelled LOG ENTRY.  Had someone made a log entry after this room was sealed off by the bulkhead?  Zail asked himself.  Was someone sealed in here when the corridor outside depressurized?

He typed a command into the computer, and then stepped back as a hologram flickered into life.

“This is Chief Petty Officer Carl Fulgran,” The image introduced itself.  He was a human with an Outer Rim accent, and the fear on his face was clear even in the hologram.  He spoke loudly, for the recording had clearly picked up the sounds of impacts against the hull, and Serpent knew at once that Fulgran made this during the Scythe’s latest fight.

“As the ranking officer in charge of the shield systems,” The hologram continued, “I have chosen to stay here while the rest of my people evacuated the section.  I want it on record that I gave them the order to leave, they did not desert, and that my choice to continue trying to keep the shield grid online alone is entirely my own.”

Sacrificed himself for his team and his ship, Noted Pherik.  In the end I can only hope to be half as brave in the face of death.

“I would also like to take this chance to go on record and attest to the foolishness of our Chief Engineer!” Added Fulgran as the image shook, the result of the Nebulon-B taking a severe hit during the recording.  Frowning, Zail listened with more interest.  “Dobbs,” Said the hologram, presumably naming the aforementioned Chief Engineer, “Is a fool who adheres to procedure over common sense, and now it looks like his constant ignoring of my recommendations are going to get this ship and its fine crew destroyed!  I told him time and ag- Record Ends.”

Serpent blinked at the sharp ending, wondering what had become of CPO Fulgran.  Though when he glanced back at the generator room’s entrance, which had to be cut open from the outside, he could imagine that the man had not left this room alive.

However, he used his last moments to lambast another officer.  Either he held a grudge, or he had something interesting to say.

Immediately Pherik turned to accessing the logs of the former Shields Operations Chief, and he noticed a recurring theme over the last few months.  Maintenance.  Time and again Fulgran had urged greater focus on the Heat Sinks of the shield generators, warning the Chief of Engineering (Dobbs) that, unless the HS were properly tended, they would be unable to properly absorb the energy directed into them (i.e. the energy of a laser blast hitting the shields, some of which was reflected back into space, and the rest of which was channelled into the Heat Sinks for re-use by the ship).

That’s pretty basic stuff, Zail thought at first.  Everyone knows that the HS are a vital component of the shields.  Only a truly incompetent Chief Engineer would ignore them.

Yet as he investigated, Serpent saw that the Heat Sinks on the Shining Scythe had not been ignored.  And it turns out that Dobbs’ maintenance teams had checked them frequently, following the naval rules regarding how often to check them.  Yet that never seemed to satisfy Fulgran, thought Pherik.  Why?  What was he afraid of?

Accessing the data log for the last battle, he brought up a list of every change noted by the Shield Generator computers during the attack.  Every impact, every fluctuation, spilled before Serpent’s eyes.  He narrowed the field of his search, analysing all data pertaining to the Heat Sinks, and his eyes widened at what he saw.

The HS began to experience problems early on in the fight, Noted Zail quickly.  This had an effect on shield strength around the ship.  No wonder the Shining Scythe took such a pounding!  Yet I still don’t understand why.

He was just thinking about the next thing he could investigate, when he happened to glance at the chrono on his wrist.  Suddenly, Serpent realised just how much time he had spent in this section of the ship, and he still had two other damaged areas to check before he and the other trainees all had to return to Yada.

Vowing to return to the Heat Sink problem later, he made some more notes on his datapad and departed.

-----

Later, Pherik and the other non-coms were back in the meeting room with Yada.  Topic by topic the Sullustan went through the six main damaged area of the Shining Scythe, asking for individuals to voice their opinions as to how severe the damage was, what should be done to repair it, and how many people and how long they thought it would take.

Serpent listened with only half an ear.  Instead he was running through facts and figures of data on his pad, checking the maintenance intervals of the Nebulon-B’s Heat Sinks, and analysing their performance during the battle.  More importantly, he analysed their performance in the weeks and months before, and noted a gradual and almost inevitable decline in their efficiency.

Finally, it came to discussion of the shield generator deck, and Pherik raised his hand to join the discussion.

“Yes, Mr... Zail?” Asked Yada, who in the last two days had yet to lean all their names.

Serpent nodded before continuing.  “The entire deck had taken severe structural damage, with several bulkheads closed and entire areas exposed to space.  I gave it an ‘8’...” He said, glancing around and seeing his fellow non-coms nodding in agreement with the number, “And would estimate five days work by a team of six techs to have it cleared.”

The Sullustan engineer seemed pleased.  “Sounds good, Mr Zail, anything else?”

Pherik did.  “Yes.  That deck came under heavy fire as the enemy tried to hit the deflector control and take out the Scythe’s shield grid.”

A Warrant Officer nearby interjected.  “I’d say they succeeded, that ship is a mess!”

“Oh they succeeded,” Said Serpent, “But they had help.  The Heat Sinks of the shield generators were in poor working order, as a result of improper maintenance.”

Yada Yenb made a strange face at Zail, though the Alderaanian had no experience at reading Sullustans and could not imagine what it meant.  “Interesting theory,” Said the engineer, “Do go on.”

“We all know the Naval guidelines on frequency of maintenance,” Said Pherik, “But I feel that the requirements for shield generators are too low.  Looking at these figures from the Shining Scythe, the shield systems acquired radiation build-up close to forty percent higher than our engineering guidelines project and allow for.  This extra radiation had a detrimental effect on the generators of the Scythe, hastening her shield collapse.”

The other non-coms looked stunned.  Clearly none of them had investigated the shields all that thoroughly.  Yada, however, was smiling.

“Very good, Mr Zail!” Congratulated the Sullustan.  “We left that report by Chief Fulgran hoping that one of you would notice.  Yes, the Vast Empire Navy’s maintenance rules for shield generators are in need of change.  The maintenance rules regarding the deflector systems are adequate for newly installed generators, but beyond five years old, such as on the Shining Scythe, they require far more work to stave off the radiation build-up you noted.”

“Why has no one noticed this before?” Asked Pherik, confused.

“There was no need,” Said Yada.  “Replacement generators were easy to come by, but recently have been getting more expensive.  Some bean-counter at Naval High Command, I assume, has decided that constantly replacing the systems is too expensive, and you are having to make do with generators over five years old.”

“And no-one thought to change the procedure?” Exclaimed Pherik, stunned by the stupidity.

Yada shrugged.  “Even the Vast Empire Navy, though not as big as the old Imperial Navy at its height, is still a bureaucratic mess, Mr Zail.  Sometimes the left hand does not know what the right hand is doing.  Logistics made a decision to cut costs, but the Academy was not made aware and has not adjusted its training in response.”

“Well I will change the maintenance schedules as soon as I get back to the Halcyon Warrior,” Vowed Serpent, and the other non-coms made similar promises regarding their own ships.

“Very good,” Said Yada.  “The lesson of the day is learned, I believe.  Complacency and mindlessly following the rules of others is an error.  Those who serve on a ship know best how that ship works.  It is up to you to know every system, monitor every change, and adapt to ensure that your vessel operates at its peak.”

The Sullustan looked around a room full of heads nodding in understanding.  Pleased, he pressed on.  “And now ship area number five, the engine room...”

-----

The next morning the trainees were back in lecture mode, pouring over schematics and plans of the Shining Scythe.  In groups of threes and fours they analysed the damaged areas as Yada visited each team, discussing their recommendations.  That afternoon they got to work.

With only five days of their work experience left, there was no way that the twenty trainees could fix the whole ship, but they would help repair key systems.  Together with the other trainees, Serpent re-connected power conduits, restored power systems, worked on the weapons systems, made adjustments to the hyperdrive, and more.  Never did any team stay in one part of the ship for more than a few hours, as Yada shuffled them around so that everyone got to try their hand at everything.

By the end of the sixth day, Zail was exhausted, and despite having gone around the Shining Scythe at least twice over, he still felt as if he and his friends had barely done anything.  The main computer network had been restored, linking the teams working around the vessel, but other than that the Nebulon-B still looked like a wreck.

It was nearing the end of their shift in main Engineering, where Pherik and three others were busy putting the finishing touches to the restoration of the power grid.  While two crewmen worked on bringing the computer core to full functionality, Serpent found himself locked in an argument with a Warrant Officer called Paan.

“Don’t be so fraking stupid,” Said Pherik, tense from having this discussion several times already this day.

The other man, a Kel Dor alien in his species normal (and somewhat intimidating) breathing mask, glared back at him.  “I out-rank you, Mr Zail,” Said the other with a smooth and controlled voice.  “What I say goes.  I say that the generator can handle it.  It is perfectly stable right now.”

“Stable?” Echoed Pherik.  “Paan, listen to me!  This ship’s power is still being supplied by the shipyards.  If we cut that feed and turn lighting and life support over to the generator, the generator will fail.”

Paan shook his head.  “I have been working on that generator all afternoon, Pherik.  It will hold.  And when Yada sees that we have made this ship self-sufficient, then this team will complete this course with glowing commendations, enough to earn me my commission!”

Serpent sighed, and looked to the other two members of the team.  Neither of the Petty Officers seemed like they wanted to get involved in the heated discussion and instead focused on their computer work.

Turning back to the Kel Dor, Zail tried one last time.  “Don’t do this,” He said.

“Over-ruled,” Said the Warrant Officer, and physically shoved Pherik aside from his work station.

The Alderaanian stood close by and watched as the alien used the newly restored computer network to power up the main generator, taking it up to full strength gradually and with care.  Soon the display was reading 97% efficiency of energy production and the power grid itself was holding steady.

Serpent was impressed, but still had his doubts.  So far so good, he thought, but now comes the real test.

Paan brought up a list of ship’s functions on the screen, and selected those highlighted for dependence on outside power generation.  The Kel Dor selected the lighting, and transferred it to the Shining Scythe’s now-active generator.

The lights in Engineering flickered a bit, and then held steady.

Then he selected Life Support and switched that over too.

Zail winced as he noticed a noise from the nearby main generator, its dull humming rising a little in volume and pitch, but otherwise nothing else seemed to change.

“Done,” Said the Warrant Officer, sounding smug.

Pherik let out a breath that he did not realise he was holding.  “Okay, I admit,” Said the human.  “Perhaps I was overly cau....”

He did not get a chance to finish his apology, for the computer display suddenly began beeping in alarm.

“What the...?” Exclaimed Paan, horrified as warnings in bright red aurebesh spilled across his screen.  Meanwhile the generator was rising suddenly in volume.

“The reactor is over-taxed!” Cried Serpent.  “We have to shut it down!”

“Trying!” Replied the other as the generator reached a deafening roar.

The other two members of their team were now rushing over, eager to help resolve the crisis.

“It’s not responding!” Exclaimed the Kel Dor in alarm.  “The controls are jammed and the reactor is still building power!”

“What do we do?” Asked one of the other non-coms.

Zail quickly took charge of the problem.  Not that he was any more of an expert than the others, but being the First Officer of an Imperial II Star Destroyer had given him a level head under pressure.  Thinking clearly, he barked commands.  “Paan, route power to everything you can think of!  Sensors, shields, whatever!”

“But that will overload the power grid!” The Warrant Officer protested.  “Fuses will blow across the ship!”

“And if that excess power doesn’t go somewhere it will be the generator itself that blows!” Snapped Pherik.  “And you two, use the computer system and try to re-establish control!  Get the fraking thing into a safe shut-down sequence!”

“What about you?” Asked one.

“I’m going to initialise a manual shut-down!” Replied Zail, already on his way towards the generator chamber.  “And someone notify Yada!  If the generator blows it’s going to do a lot of damage to this ship, and in its current condition I have no idea just how bad it could get!”

Pherik left them be and hurried on, the sounds of the generator now a deafening scream that echoed throughout the engineering deck.  Soon he entered the room that housed the power core of the Shining Scythe.

A wave of heat washed over the Petty Officer as the doors opened, but he forced himself onwards.  Rushing to the small computer console at the base of the generator, he typed in his access code and began to key in the commands for the emergency shutdown.

ERROR!  CANNOT COMPLY WITH COMMAND

“Frak!” He snarled in anger.

Just then one of the overhead lighting fixtures blew, and he heard similar popping sounds from outside in the corridor.  That clearly meant that Paan was redirecting the excess energy as he instructed, but the power grid was getting over-whelmed.  Serpent did not want to think about what would happen if one of the weapons systems overloaded...

Desperate, he ran over to a ladder on the side of the generator and scaled it swiftly to the top.  With the failure of technology, it came down to manual mechanics.  He glanced about and quickly located a manual lever that would cut the reaction in the core.  Pherik had to admit to himself that he had no idea what such a sudden cut would do, but as the generator beneath him began to tremble and whine, he figured he was out of options.

He reached down to take hold of the lever, but pulled his hands back quickly as it burned his fingers.  Its really overheating!  I have to act quickly!

Figuring he had no time for gloves, he tore off the top of his work overalls (none of them were stupid enough to wear their uniforms for a day of repairs) and wrapped it in his hands.  Taking a firm grip of the lever again, he could feel the intense heat but had no choice but to ignore it.  Putting all of his strength into it, Zail pulled.

Inch by torturous inch it came back in his hands, the heat paining him and the noise of the generator hurting his ears.  Then suddenly, with a thoroughly satisfying ‘click’, the lever was in the off position.

The roar of the power core began to subside almost immediately, and Pherik slumped down against the ladder, exhausted.  It was over.

Engineering is tough, he mused.

-----

Yada had nothing but scorn for Warrant Officer Paan, and nothing but praise for Zail.  Even the other trainees had good and bad things to say to the suddenly famous duo.

The seventh and last day of the course was spent repairing all the extra damage to the power grid that Paan had caused, but Pherik did not mind.  He felt oddly relaxed, knowing that he had dealt with a crisis and performed so well during it.

And then, at the end of the day, Yada read out the names of those who had passed the week-long course (basically everyone except for Paan) and offered to write glowing reports back to everyone’s superiors.

Serpent thanked the Sullustan in person for his help and advice, and then boarded the shuttle back home.

After seven days as an engineer, he would never complain about the stress of an XO’s job again...

OOC:

4366 words.  Since my character is the XO of a ship, it did not make sense to have him lurking about in engineering all the time.  This little ‘work experience’ idea gives my character the excuse to plausibly fulfil the requirements for the Engineering Tier 3 Certification.  Hope it’s okay!

Thank you very much, Trick!  I worked for a long time on that one and I am glad that you liked it!

Thank you very much!  Greatly appreciated!