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Day 04 [1200 Hrs] An Unpleasant Bath

[ Lieutenant Frank Arnold | Fighter Assault Bay | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @pcharing

As usual Frank was poking around where he shouldn’t have been. He couldn’t help it, he was curious, and after the macabre nature of the last couple of days, he needed to decompress. Besides the invitation to blow off some steam in Holodeck 05, he’d otherwise mostly been working, coordinating, or welding. The welding he didn’t mind of course, it was a passion of his, and occasionally he got an impish joy out of welding childish images on the inside of panels. But mostly, it was work, and while he enjoyed his work, it was still work. The was how Frank found himself poking around somewhere he shouldn’t have been, at least this time it wasn’t a Gorn’s wife.

He'd come down to the fighter bay to do a little work on something that moved. Ever since he’d lost his Triumph RX-45, he’d not had something to tinker with regularly. Sure he had his holodeck bike, but the holodecks were limited, and it didn’t smell the same. He had the Jackrabbit, but it was in pieces right now, and the long road ahead of it before it would fly again, made him want to cry. Besides, that had become a project of note, and as such he had to deal with the meddling of do-gooders. So, he’d slipped into a jumpsuit, left his pips in his fancy new quarters, and come down here to the fighter bay. Whether or not he was welcome was of little regard to Frank, after all, worst things worst he got a slap on the wrist and chased with a wrench, it still wasn’t a Gorn’s wife. No one was getting eaten today, well unless Sithick showed up, but Frank still reckoned he could outrun the man.

Frank waited for the next returning craft to pull into the bay, a Valravn back from a training flight. Unbeknownst to him for now, piloted by ‘Gemini’. He stood there, all smiles and spanners, and waited for the craft to pull in. Once it did, he wasted no time in watching the deck hands do the regular shutdown procedures and leave. He’d noted this was a training flight, and there was a small adjustment due ‘under the hood’. It really hadn’t taken that much convincing to get one of the regular deck hands to trade off knuckle busting for reading a digital novel and taking a thirty minute coffee break, instead of doing a recirculation pump fluid re-alignment.

Frank had taken the time to read about the procedure, virtually indistinguishable from the procedure with the same namesake he performed on the deuterium tanks every week, when he didn’t assign it to another engineer. He was confident when he popped the cowling before the pilot could even descend from the cockpit. What he hadn’t counted on was, these parts were significantly smaller than the ones he was used to working on. He knew he had to be careful, the re-circ fluid being particularly caustic if accidentally ingested, and not so good for anyone who got sprayed with it. An accident meant potential burns, but it also meant he’d have to spend much of his free leisure afternoon, in a decontamination chamber, being tongue-wagged by a nurse in sickbay for the fourteenth time. He pulled down his face shield, and got to work.

He finished most everything he could, but his fingers, bulbous and girthy as they were given his oversized mitts, were just a touch too large to re-connect the feed line. And so, he was forced to wait until the pilot disembarked, given he’d sent the regular ground maintainer for a break. Once ‘Gemini’ stepped off their craft, he’d hold up a greasy mitt, and offer, “Mind giving me a quick hand? It’s these damned lines, they’re a bit narrow at the connection point, and crowded to boot. I’m about done, I just need a hand seating the last connector, and your bird will be ready to soar once more.”

He didn’t figure he’d alarm the pilot with the particulars of not getting sprayed with the fluid, he assumed that they did train on the particulars of maintaining their crafts, even if they did not personally do all of the maintenance. Besides, the warning Frank figured would only serve to needlessly unnerve his assistant. He waited for them to join him, and then pointed to the narrow gold valve header, “All I need you to do is clip this hose…” He held the quick connect end up, “…to that nozzle, and we’re good. Problem is these sausages I call fingers, was born with the hands of a great ape.” He chuckled, and didn’t feel the need to add, ‘and make sure it’s tight or we’re both taking an unpleasant bath’. It was patronizing, and he came here to make friends.

Re: Day 04 [1200 Hrs] An Unpleasant Bath

Reply #1
[ Lieutenant “Reggie” Suder | Fighter Assault Bay | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @uytrereee 

In Reggie’s experience, it was not often that deckhands were standing idle, waiting for her ship to pull in.  Sure the crews were always attentive to her needs and those of the other pilots she had flown with, but when someone stood by waiting for your return from a short training flight, that usually meant one of two things;  either they were about to send you right back out after a quick service run, or someone was trying to impress.

Considering that she did not recognize the deckie waiting for her she assumed it was the latter. 

It took her a little longer than usual to disembark and she was more than happy to let Kalil get out first.  As flight leader, she wanted to make sure the ship’s logs were backed up not only to Theurgy’s computer, but also to her own personal database.  The flight with Chaos and Wraith had been educational to say the least and she needed to ensure that the lessons learned were not forgotten, lest the progress they had made today be for nothing.

The deckhand working her ship was a larger man and it wasn’t until he flipped his face shield up, that she noticed he seemed a bit older than she might have expected for someone in the role.  No.  It wasn’t him that seemed old.  It was the grey in his beard.  He he probably had a handful of years on her, but not nearly as many as his beard might have suggested. 

Her Exosuit boot hit the deck with a thud, and as it did, he called her over and explained the situation.  He’d been servicing her recirculation pump fluid, but his fingers were just a little too big to work in the small space.  Fortunately, her fingers were longer and a bit more slender as well. 

At least they were without the Exosuit.  With the armored gloves she was about as useless as the deck hand.

“Sure,” she said.  “Not a problem.  I just need to get out of this armor.”

Without further fanfare, she set her helmet on the deck and de-coupled the gauntlets before sliding them off her arms, and lifting the entire torso piece off as well.  While it normally wouldn’t have been an issue for her to keep the chest piece on, she needed to de-pressurize the under layer so she could pull her hands free.  Once the body suit went baggy on her, she shrugged it off her shoulders and let it hang down by her waist.  It was not the first time she had worked on a ship in her tank top, and she suspected it would not be the last.

“Okay,” she said.  “Lets see what we’ve got here.”

She’d understood his direction well enough as well as the difficulty the larger man must have had trying to seat the hose to the nozzle.  Fortunately for him, she’d done this a few times in her career and the muscle memory came back to her.

“And done.”

She keyed the line to re-pressurize as she turned back to the deckhand.

“Nice to meet you, by the way.  I’m Reg…”

The hissing behind her drew her attention and she turned back just in time to see the leak.  She reached for it, extending her hand to the control panel, but she was too slow.  The pressure increased, shoving the hose she had just seated off the nozzle.  Fluid sprayed everywhere, flooding the small maintenance compartment on her fighter.  Instinct took her and she put her hand out to catch the hose, but Reggie was too late.

Alarms sounded as she turned away, falling to the deck and crying out as the caustic fluid burned into her skin.

Re: Day 04 [1200 Hrs] An Unpleasant Bath

Reply #2
[ Lieutenant Frank Arnold | Fighter Assault Bay | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @P.C. Haring

Frank was here on a mission, whether or not it was to impress remained to be seen, but either way, he was here. The grey in his beard had come much earlier than age dictated, as it had in his father. Arnolds greyed early, likely because they refused to live easy lives, and stress took the color early on. As she snapped her helmet off, he was momentarily distracted by her face. He couldn't place exactly what it was, but the combination of all her features, drew his gaze. She checked his boxes so to speak, and he was distracted for a moment. Luckily he managed to keep his mouth closed, and off the deck.

As she snapped her armored chest off, he realized he was staring at the lines of her neck, collarbone, and chest, which was more than a little bit impolite, and with a brief flush of his cheeks, he turned back to the work at hand, letting her slide her hand in next to his, until she was on the money and he could pull his mitt out, "Like I said, it's these sausage fingers of mine, too many whacks with a hammer, least that's what I tell people." He chuckled gently at that, and watched over her shoulder, a bit close for comfort, but he wanted to see it done from beginning to end.

He watched as she coupled the line on to the nozzle, and he listened for the satisfying click that indicated a solid connection. Over the din of the bay, and the back-whir of the winding down flight reactor, he wasn't sure whether or not he heard it. He smiled, and then offered a single clap as she connected it, with a little, "Yessss" as she seated the connector. He offered a high five, and a polite, "Hey thank you! I appreciate it, I've not had to use the extension forceps in a while, and I figured it would just be better to ask for help, than bumble around with my fat fingers in that tight space like I didn't know what I was doing."

She went to pressurize the line again, and he turned his back to pick up his tools, and put the gloves away. She was introducing herself to him, and he listened, her name was Reg... And then without warning the valve blew. There were quite a few reasons it could happen. The first one was, that the nozzle wasn't properly seated. However, the valve, or nozzle could have been defective, the line could have been plugged and failed, the pressure spike could have been wrong, the list went on and on. Unfortunately it wasn't something that they had time to discuss. A world that had been wide with possibilities, suddenly became very small within a containment field.

Reggie took the brunt of the spray, less covered in her tank top as she was. She'd received a healthy spray of the caustic fluid across presumably her upper body. Frank was more fortunate, or more really lucky, the spray had painted a perfect line across his visor, which had been folded behind his head. The caustic substance was already burning a clean line through the exterior coating, as it was through the back of his jumpsuit, and the outer layers of skin on his neck and upper back as it ran down the back of his collar. He let out a loud cry of his own, and the pain took him to his knees.

For the briefest flash of time, he was on the USS Cortez again, pinned between a deuterium cycler and a bulkhead, plasma fire lashing over his arm and chest leaving searing pain, as he worked desperately to free himself and his crewmate. Just for a moment before he snapped out of it to the blare of a chemical alarm. He didn't know why at that moment, but his heart was pounding viciously in his chest, his breath short at his throat.  He clenched his eyes closed, just in case, and wiped at them furiously with his bare fingers until he was convinced he hadn't taken any caustic spray to the face. His back was on fire, the skin actively breaking down.

This was fortunately not Frank's first emergency, and once he opened his eyes, he turned his attention to Reggie, and followed his training. Step one, call for help, neither of them might be conscious in a moment, his vision was blurred by pain and the sweat that ran into his eyes. He slapped at his chest a few times until he heard the telltale chirp of his comm, and he called out, "Medical Emergency, chemical contamination, F-A-B Zero One, Deck Sixteen."

His next step was to pry himself to his feet, and stagger to the medical panel, and rip it open clumsily spilling a lot of contents on the ground, as he grabbed one piece of the spill kit. He turned towards Reggie, and tried to gracefully slide to his knees, which more so ended in a collapse as he landed next to her on his chest with a clumsy thud. He rolled on his side, and took the single bottle of flushing solution he'd grabbed, and through grit teeth offered as he laid his massive mitt on her forehead, "I know it's..hard...but try and lay still. This...won't help with the pain, but you won't go blind" If she allowed, he'd pour the solution over her face, her eyes primarily to preserve her vision in case she'd gotten it in her eyes, completely unaware of her bionic vision.

That was all he could muster, and with a bated breath he collapsed there, on his front, his back on fire, sapped off the last of his energy as the caustic substance robbed his skin and subcutaneous muscle of electrolytes, and waited for medical to arrive. Mercifully within a bare few minutes gurneys were on their way in, guided by hazmat suited medical personnel.


Re: Day 04 [1200 Hrs] An Unpleasant Bath

Reply #3
[ Lieutenant “Reggie” Suder | Fighter Assault Bay | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn:  @uytrereee 

Reggie cried out in pain as the caustic fluid burned into her face and chest.  Somewhere, she summoned the strength to lay as still as possible, to keep her hands away from the affected areas.

“This...won't help with the pain, but you won't go blind"

Despite the pain, she could still see as clearly as her occulars would permit.  The deckhand was on his side next to her, a wash bottle in his hand, hovering just above her eyes.

“Do it,” she cried out.

The rest came to her in a blur as the deckhand worked his first aid on her, the medics arriving, seperating the two of them.

“Sir,” one of the medics said, “We have her.  We need to tend to you now, Lieutenant.”

Sir… Sir?  What medic referred to a deckhand as ‘sir’…Lieutenant?  Who was this guy?

The brief distraction dulled the pain.  Or maybe it was the hypo against her corrodid.

“Check her eyes,” the medic ordered.  “Where is he exposed?”

“Her ocular implants are fine.”

“It’s all over Arnold’s back.”

Arnold…. Arnold?  Frank Arnold?  Wasn't he the new chief…

“Oh shhi….”

“Don’t speak, Lieutenant,” the medic working on her said.  “Can’t risk any ingestion.”

Hands pressed against her face and chest, working on her, hodling her in place.

“He’s stable.”

“Get them both to Decon, now!”

The hands came off her as the medics stepped back. 

“Computer, emergency transport.  Beam Lieutenants Suder and Arnold directly to Sickbay decontamination.”

The world around her faded and her vision went dark.

Re: Day 04 [1200 Hrs] An Unpleasant Bath

Reply #4
[ Lieutenant Frank Arnold | Main Sickbay | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @P.C. Haring

Frank really didn't know how long he'd laid there for before the prep team came. Most circumstances they'd have been transported right to sickbay, but this was chemical exposure. There was no saying what they'd been coated in, so transporting them smack dab into medical was a no go until they could be triaged. His training told him it can't have been more than two minutes or so, but his instincts said longer. Primal survival instincts had the epinephrine coursing through their blood right now, as the caustic fluid tortured the layers of skin on his back. Frank knew there were three layers of skin, and he imagined he could feel each layer boiling away into a neat vapor, accompanied by a noxious gas.

In due time he was being fussed over by a medic. This little lunch jaunt had turned into a real fiasco, but he supposed in a very sick way this was what you got for messing where you shouldn't have been. He heard Reggie say 'Oh shhii..' but was quickly silenced by the medic. He couldn't help but let out a breathy chuckle then, and shook his head, not speaking as he imagined he'd be chided with the same advice, to avoid ingestion of inhalation, not that he could simply cease breathing.

In a moment, he felt the telltale sensation of transport, and in just another he was now laying on a grated floor, surrounded on three sides by transparent containment walls. This was decontamination, that made sense to Frank. Frank didn't know it, but by now Sickbay had likely determined what the agent on their skin was, the back of his suit had been cut open. Likely some of Reggie's coverings had been cut away too.

The telltale hiss and a computerized voice announcing, 'decontamination sequence commence' gave way to a rain shower of water laved with pain suppressant and neutralizing agent being sprayed over both of them, running down his body and hers and draining through the floor. At least the water was not cold, ejected at a neutral body temperature to not agitate the agent further. With a few moments the pain began to fade, and he could pry himself to sit up.

He angled his back towards the nearest spray nozzle, daring not to leave the path of a direct stream of soothing liquid. He did not desire to return to fire ants eating the flesh off of his back.

He let out a groan, and would offer over to Reggie, who hadn't really gotten to introduce herself, "Look, if you wanted to take a shower with me, all you had to do was ask." He let out a hoarse chuckle that was cut short by the pain stretching his skin made. He started to assess himself as they continued to get rained on, his back, back of his neck, back of his left arm, were all going to need some form of regeneration, less he end up with scars like his right arm.

He looked over to Reggie then, hopefully she was starting to feel better as well, "You feeling the pain suppressant yet? If you can bear it, try and let it get over as much of your burns as you can, you want to get that shit off you." He cleared his throat, "Don't worry, an unpleasant shower, couple hours tops with a regenerator, you'll be good as new."

Re: Day 04 [1200 Hrs] An Unpleasant Bath

Reply #5
[ Lieutenant “Reggie” Suder | Main Sickbay - Decon Chamber| Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @uytrereee

The blur continued, a rush of words, changes in environment.  No longer on the deck, now in someplace else.  Someplace darker, private.  Wet.  No not the beach at night.  Somewhere else.  Built, mechanical… aboard Theurgy.  No…that was not the best combination. 

"Look, if you wanted to take a shower with me, all you had to do was ask."

She laughed at the comment, a chuckle really followed by some sort of innuendo laced response, but all that she got out was a cough and a wet gurgle as, like a Terran turkey in the rain, she opened her mouth as the water came pouring down on her.  Reggie sat up, her abdomen clenching, forcing her upright and she coughed once, twice and a third time before the water found its way down her esophagus and into her stomach as opposed to her lungs.

"You feeling the pain suppressant yet? If you can bear it, try and let it get over as much of your burns as you can, you want to get that shit off you.  Don't worry, an unpleasant shower, couple hours tops with a regenerator, you'll be good as new."

It was then that she realized the searing pain she’d been experiencing had subsided considerably and she could move without feeling like her skin might be boiled off.  Between the Re-circ fluid and the medics, her tank top had been burned, the ribbon of fabric that should have been securing the garment over her left shoulder was severed in the front and without that support, the left side drooped down, hanging off her breast that, while still covered, was now far more exposed and revealed than she might have preferred.    On a personal level, she didn’t care.  Skin was skin of course and she had no shame in that regard, but the ‘half covered soaked through wet tank top contest’ look was not exactly the most professional of looks and certainly not how she had wanted to meet the ship’s Chief Engineer.  Especially since the skin across her breast had been left red, inflamed, and burned away in places.  Yup.  She would definitely need a dermal regeneration treatment before she left sickbay.  She wondered if Kate was on duty today.

She rolled to her knees and sat back, resting her butt on her heels and her back on the chamber wall, as the water continued to rain down on her.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” she said.  The formality was perhaps a bit out of place between two lieutenants, but as he held a position among the ship’s senior staff, she chose deference over practicality, especially given the situation.  “I wasn’t paying attention.”

She spat some water that had collected in her mouth back toward the floor drain.

“Certainly not how I wanted to meet the new Chief Engineer.”

OOC - For the mention of Kate Foster, I'm also tagging @Swift

Re: Day 04 [1200 Hrs] An Unpleasant Bath

Reply #6
[ Lieutenant Frank Arnold | Main Sickbay - Decon Chamber | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @P.C. Haring 

Frank sat under his stream with his massive arms wrapped about his chest. He was watching Reggie more than he realized, his muscles tightly contracted his arms around his body, and he was tense. More tense than he realized too, as if he was holding his breath in anticipation of her pain, not his. It was odd for him.

He pried his arms away from his body as he broke his gaze from her, and reached up to the shoulders of his sundered jumpsuit, where he took hold of one side, and pulled, hard. With a few telltale rips, some grit teeth and the occasional groan, Frank peeled the suit down to his waist, and rolled it there, before he shed his tank top underneath, in tatters as it was. He sat there bare chested now, the right half of his torso heavily scarred from what looked like a previous set of burns.

With his back oriented to the stream once again he looked to Reggie, studying her. While given her form and features he'd have very much liked to shower with her in other circumstances, he did her the decency of keeping his eyes at her eye level after assessing she'd been involuntarily made part of the Spring Break wet tee shirt contest.

He let out a wet laugh over the sound of falling rain as she apologized, and would wave a massive mitt, "Don't be sorry. I was fiddling where I shouldn't have been. Not to mention, no one's done the failure analysis on that piece, could have been faulty and waiting to go. Don't be so eager to accept blame." He motioned around with arms raised and palms upward, "I suppose this is what you get for fiddling though." He turned back to her, "Call me Frank, everyone does anyway." He chuckled then, and asked, "Burn virgin?" with a raised brow and a look at her, "Your skin's too nice to not be. Or you've been near a medbay." He offered her a polite nod, and then reclined into his stream. He tried to catch her attention and then drug a demonstrating finger across the back of his left shoulder, then turned back towards her, and followed the trace over his peck, bicep, tricep, forearm, to his hand, "Not me."

And then in perfect Frank fashion, he had a tidbit, "You know they invented plastic surgery for pilots, back in the dog days of medicine." He nodded lowly, "Pilots in one of humanity's conflicts, would get trapped in their rudimentary cockpits, and were known for getting horrible facial burns in crashes. So a doctor in the British Empire, began crafting and grafting wax and plastic face prosthetics for Britain's War Heroes." He nodded gently, "And the term stuck." He groaned as he turned to her then, and raised a brow. "So when you think about it, you're following in a long vaunted tradition. Then again I think the fathers of aviation never imagined someone as fair as you flying. No offense intended, I'm far from a misogynist."

"So how did you want to meet the new Chief Engineer?" He looked her over, "I'm partial to black pencil skirts." He offered teasingly as he then realized he could be speaking to someone far above his station, "Then again you have me at a severe disadvantage, as you know who I am, but I don't know who you are."

He grunted and introduced himself again anyway, "Frank Arnold, Chief of Engineering Operations, and your showermate."

Re: Day 04 [1200 Hrs] An Unpleasant Bath

Reply #7
[ Lieutenant “Reggie” Suder | Main Sickbay - Decon Chamber| Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @uytrereee‍ 

Reggie chuckled to herself.  Oh if he only knew….  Then as the tension released from her shoulders she found herself relaxing.  Lieutenant Arnold…Frank seemed a nice enough person and didn’t seem all that troubled about the incident and was probably enjoying the time in a shared shower with someone of her stature.  That was… superficial on her part, but if the vibes she picked up from him were any indication, it also happened to be true.  Still, she sensed no ulterior motive from the officer and as such she decided to let her guard down.

“Oh,” she said with a sigh, “I’ve had my fair share of close calls and trips to Sickbay.  You don’t fly peregrine fighters against the Dominion and come out unscathed.”

For as good as she was, as decorated as she had been, she’d also found herself on the wrong end of the engagement more times than she could count.  Most of the injuries she’d sustained hadn’t required re-constructive surgery, but the ringer she’d been put through after the first battle of Chin’Toka would not  leave her memory any time soon.  Even after so many years, she often wondered if scar tissue had festered under the reconstruction and was just waiting to claw its way out of her.  It was silly, she knew.  But even so.

“I’ve also been lucky.  Not too many severe injuries over the past decade, and I’ve usually had good medical facilities either nearby or close enough to get me there in a stasis chamber.”

The Betazoid pushed herself to her feet and stepped over to the Engineer, extending her hand.  As she did the burned tank finally gave way and the brittle fabric that had once been her right shoulder strap gave way and broke, allowing gravity to do it’s work on her garment and leave her fully exposed down to her under-bust.  She didn’t try to stop it, nor did she attempt to cover up though she knew she should, especially when she noticed Frank making every effort to keep eye contact with her.

“Don’t worry about this, Frank,” she said, motioning to her bare skin and then to her eyes as she explained.  “I’m a Betazoid.  I’m not bothered if you decide to look at me.”  Her voice trailed off as she considered it might not be as much about her sense of modesty as it would be about his.  “If it helps you any, just think of yourself as about to attend a traditional Betazoid wedding.”

She pulled the remains of the tank over her head and discarded the destroyed garment with a purposeful toss into the corner.  Taking care as to not come across as though she were trying to make an advance on him…after all she had just met the man and even if she was interested…which she wasn’t really in a position to decide…her recent reunion with a certain Vulcan tactical officer made her want to focus her efforts there… at least until they figured out just what it was they had together.  Still, she sat on the bench next to him, as natural as could be expected under the circumstances.

“Honestly, I’m not sure exactly how I had ‘hoped’ to meet you.  Certainly a slightly more professional  situation than this.  Be that as it may,” she said as she extended a hand to Frank, her slender fingers a dramatic contrast to his chubbier hand.  “Lieutenant Regiene Suder.  But I insist you either call me ‘Reggie’ or my callsign, ‘Gemini.’  A pleasure to meet you.”

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