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ComNet > Imperial Navy > Archived Naval Certifications > Trykon: Skill Mission, Vehicle Mechanic
 
 
 
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Topic:  Trykon: Skill Mission, Vehicle Mechanic
Trykon
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Trykon
 
[VE-NAVY] Senior Crewman
 
Post Number:  34
Total Posts:  3784
Joined:  Feb 2011
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  Trykon: Skill Mission, Vehicle Mechanic
February 14, 2011 3:16:02 AM    View the profile of Trykon 
The lift doors opened, revealing the chaos of the Academy’s main vehicle hangar, and Wyl Trykon sighed.  The bay was a mess, with walkers, repulsortanks, and piles of assorted parts crowded together at odd angles, with no organizational system in evidence.  This was going to be a very challenging assignment.

Just another opportunity to distinguish yourself, Wyl, he thought with a wan smile.

He stepped off the lift, and waved down a passing mechanic.  “The Officer of the Deck is––?”

“Master Chief Deenik, sir,” the Crewman answered.

Wyl waited a beat, but the mechanic didn’t elaborate.  “Thanks,” he said dryly.  “I meant, where can I find the Master Chief?”

The mechanic shrugged.  “He’s around here somewhere.”

Wyl suppressed the urge to launch into a tirade about military professionalism – barely – and settled for a frown of disapproval.  “Very well,” he said.  “You may return to your duties, Crewman.”

The mechanic cocked his head to the side, as if trying to remember what he’d been doing before Trykon stopped him.  Wyl shook his head in thinly-veiled disgust, and walked on, toward a group of maintenance people gathered around the legs of an All Terrain Scout Transport.  The group erupted with laughter as Trykon approached, and a very short, very fat Rodian hooted loudest of all.  As Wyl got closer, he noticed with some dismay that the obese being’s uniform bore the stripes of a Master Chief Petty Officer.

You’re not here to tell him how to run his hangar, Wyl reminded himself.  You’re just here to prove you can fix a repulsorlift system.  “Master Chief Deenik?”

The corpulent Officer of the Deck ignored Trykon, continuing his no-doubt hilarious anecdote: “––tho, I thaid I wouldn’t count on it, if I wath him,” Deenik finished, his lisp very pronounced, even for a Rodian.  The group of techs chuckled appreciatively, and the Master Chief finally turned to face Senior Crewman Trykon.  “Yeth, Cwewman?

“Senior Crewman Trykon, reporting as ordered, Master Chief.”  A blank stare was all he got from the being’s multifaceted black eyes.  Struggling to keep his voice even, Wyl spelled it out for the Rodian: “I’m to be evaluated as a candidate for the Naval Engineering program, sir.”

“Yeth, of courth.  Get thtarted.”

Wyl was at a loss.  Where was the discipline and competence of the Imperial officer corps of old?  “Get started?” he repeated in disbelief.

“Yeth, Cwewman.  Pick thomething, and fikth it.”  And with that, the fat little being turned back to the other mechanics and started another joke.

Pick something and fix it, huh?  With a conscious effort, Wyl relaxed his hands, which had balled into fists sometime since he’d left the lift, and glanced around the hangar.  His gaze passed over other scout walkers, a pair of superficially carbon-scored Chariot Light Assault Vehicles, and a disconcerting mound of dismembered limbs from what looked like at least five different droids, before he caught sight of the saddest looking Aratech Z4-Z speeder bike he’d ever seen.  Now there’s a repair project, he thought.  I guess I should get “thtarted.”

The laughter fading behind him, Trykon got to work.  The speeder bike was resting on the ground, its engine and repulsorlift system both nonfunctional, with various spare parts strewn around it.  A quick inventory identified a spare power cell, a set of replacement steering vanes, and a second throttle assembly nearby, but no new blaster cannon or seat.  Well, that’s alright, Wyl mused.  As long as I can get the thing to hover again I think I’ll have made my point.  Let someone else sort through this mess of a hangar for a bike seat.

Trykon pushed a maintenance repulsorsled over to the derelict speeder bike, and loaded it up with a set of hydrogrips he found near the mound of droid limbs.  Under the Z4-Z’s stained seat, in the cargo compartment, Wyl found the bike’s field repair tool kit, and he took out a hydrospanner and a servodriver, which he arranged neatly on the sled.  Finally, he added the multitool and the roll of spacer’s tape he’d stashed in his coveralls pocket that morning, and took a moment to admire his handiwork.  His work space was organized, with the necessary equipment, parts, and tools laid out where he could reach them, and Wyl was reminded of his shop class all those years ago on Kuat.  Frowning at the reminder of his old life, Trykon willed away the memories, and started the repair.

At first, he made good progress.  The bike’s original throttle assembly seemed fine as it was, and there were no problems fitting the four new directional vanes; it was simply a matter of tedious back-and-forth work with the hydrospanner and servodriver.  After that, the only major operation left was to replace the engine’s power cell, which was more dependent on Trykon's brute strength than any skill.  The new parts finally installed, Wyl tried the engine, and smiled in satisfaction as it obediently started.  With mounting excitement, Wyl reached for the button that would restart the repulsorlift array, and pressed it.

Nothing happened, and Trykon’s short-lived grin melted into his characteristic thoughtful frown.  He’d checked the charge of the cell before putting it in, the engine had seemed okay, and the repulsor array itself was almost unbreakable… So there must be a wiring problem, Wyl decided, that’s preventing the power from reaching the repulsors.

Almost a standard hour later, Wyl had rewired the entire bike, from the control console to the actuators of the thrust flaps, and he was ready for another test.  Holding his breath, he pressed the button to route power to the repulsors…

And with the tell-tale whine of fully-powered repulsorlifts, the speeder bike lurched off the hangar deck, pushing off of Abrae’s gravity well, and hovered a meter in the air.  “There now,” Wyl muttered.  “That wasn’t so hard.”

It only took Wyl a few minutes to reattach the panels which covered the bike’s wiring, and a few more to put away his tools and straighten his work area.  Then, a triumphant grin on his face, he turned around to find the fat Rodian mechanic and make his report.

To his surprise, Master Chief Deenik was standing right behind him, a pocket chronometer in his hand.  “Sir, I––” Will sputtered.  “You’ve been timing me?”

“Yeth, Cwewman Twyckon.  Thinth you thtepped onto my deck.”  The Master Chief’s eyes glinted in the harsh lighting of the hangar bay.

Suddenly, Wyl understood.  “It was all an act.  The lack of discipline, the lack of focus, all of it.”

“Yeth,” the Master Chief said matter-of-factly.  “The Academy wanted to evaluate you thycologicawy, in addition to tethting engineewing thkiwth.”

A damn psych evaluation, in the middle of a test of engineering skills.  Wyl couldn’t help but be impressed.  VENA doesn’t mess around.  “And how’d I do, sir?” he asked mildly.

“You pathed.”

“I passed the engineering test, or the psych eval?”

“Both.  You may go.  I have evewything I need,” the Rodian said.

Trykon saluted.  “Thank you, sir.”

It was only later, when he was back on the lift, that Wyl realized he’d left the speeder bike running after his surprising second meeting with Master Chief Deenik.  Cursing to himself, he hoped the chief mechanic wouldn’t dock him too many points for his lack of proper military professionalism.  I guess I'll find out when I get my performance review, the Senior Crewman sighed.
OOC:

1,235 words.  If I weren't trying to satisfy a skill mission, I'd have called this one "Repulsors and Repulsives."  I hope this is an okay place to post this...
"Don't look for the difficulty in every opportunity; find the opportunity in every difficulty." -- Wyl Trykon

Imperial Network Star Wars Image

Crew/SCRW Wyl "Trick" Trykon/CR90 Hammer/TF:A/1FL/VEN/VE/[SoA]/(=*AE*=)(=^TG^=)
Crew/SCRW Wyl "Trick" Trykon/CR90 Hammer/TF:A/1FL/VEN/VE/[SoA]/(=*AE*=)(=^TG^=)
[This message has been edited by Trick (edited February 14, 2011 3:17:55 AM)]
[This message has been edited by Trick (edited February 14, 2011 3:51:04 AM)]
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