Hello. 
Another ‘adventure’ from the ‘annals’ of ST: Bounty is just about ready to go, you’ll be pleased, disappointed or entirely uninterested to hear.
As with most Bounty stories, it should hopefully work as a standalone tale without having to catch up with the previous 17 tales (and, I’m reliably informed, 660,000 words and counting
). But as a general refresher/catch-up, the Bounty Story Index is here and this story in particular picks up a plot thread/story arc established in Star Trek: Bounty - 111 - "Love, but With More Aggressive Overtones" which might be worth some background reading.
As ever, I hope you enjoy reading!
Star Trek: Bounty is a slightly off-kilter series set in the Trek universe that focuses on the adventures of the ragtag crew of a small civilian ship, who do what they can to get by in the Alpha Quadrant. They're not exactly Starfleet spec, but they try to keep on the right side of the moral line where they can.
The story so far:
=============================================================
Star Trek: Bounty
2.05
“Zen and the Art of Corvallen Shuttlepod Maintenance”
Prologue
Orion Free Traders Colony, Orpheus IV
Earth Year 2359
“Gisjacheh!”
The Orion expletive echoed out around the confines of the workshop space loudly enough to rattle the metal frames of the walls.
Denella came rushing in from outside, as if the familiar curse had been a red alert siren. The teenager raced across the mostly-empty interior space of the building, already knowing the precise source of the sound.
“Father?” she called out as she reached the single vehicle standing frozen in place on the far side of the workshop.
The Corvallen shuttlepod was a particularly sleek design. An early 24th century model, and one that was highly regarded amongst Corvallens and collectors alike. The small cockpit and habitation section was a flattened ovoid shape with a front nose that tapered to a sharp point. Twin curved wings sprouted off from the rear of the body for atmospheric flight, and two tightly-slung warp nacelles were located right on the underside of the craft.
It was a handsome vessel, prized for both its looks and speed, and also for its rarity.
Only a few hundred versions of this particular design had ever been made by a famed boutique shipmaker. And most had subsequently been scrapped by the Corvallens themselves, who lived in a region of space with limited raw materials that necessitated wide-ranging recycling policies.
This particular somewhat tattered example had arrived in Rayo's workshop several weeks ago after he had purchased it at an auction in a neighbouring Free Trader system. And, while such a rare and collectable ship was a potential goldmine for Rayo and his family once it was fully restored, right now it was proving to be little more than a major headache for both the engineer and his budding engineer of a daughter.
Ever since it had arrived, their repair efforts had run into endless problems. The unfamiliar design, coupled with old and worn-out components, a lack of freely available spare parts and some not especially careful previous owners, meant that this was becoming a particularly complicated restoration project. And one that Rayo seemed determined not to leave alone for any length of time at all.
“I thought we’d agreed to call it a day for today,” Denella persisted as she reached the stout pair of legs sticking out from underneath the main hull of the pod, “What is it you always say? A good meal and a good rest will give you fresh eyes for your problems?”
Rayo squirmed slightly underneath the pod, his left hand reaching down and grabbing a coil spanner from the ground next to his leg.
“I know,” the muffled voice of her father came back, “It’s just these damn impulse engines. I thought I’d try recalibrating the coil inducers again.”
Denella sighed patiently and playfully kicked his leg with her sandal-covered foot.
“We’ve already recalibrated them four times,” she pointed out, “And we’d decided that we’d just have to replace the whole assembly. Tomorrow.”
She added the final word with a pointed insistence that Rayo couldn’t help but smile at. As much as his fourteen year old daughter was following in his footsteps, work-wise, she could still sound just like her mother when it was time to tell him off for being a fool.
“I know,” he replied as he worked, “But this time, I wanted to try rerouting the power flow through the secondary—”
His explanation was cut off in its prime by a sharp bang. Followed by a wisp of smoke curling out from underneath the shuttlepod. Followed, inevitably, by another expletive.
“Gisjacheh!”
Rayo reluctantly slid himself back out from underneath the hull and saw his daughter’s amused face as she looked down at him with her arms folded in front of her.
“You know,” she smiled patiently at her foul-mouthed father, “You really shouldn’t be teaching your daughter words like that.”
Rayo clambered back to his feet and dusted down his filthy brown overalls, the green skin on his face smeared with dirt.
“If you’re going to be an engineer, you’re going to need to learn words like that.”
“Is that a fact?”
“Absolutely,” Rayo nodded as he wiped his hands on a cloth, “Any engineer worth their salt should be able to swear in at least six different languages.”
The sound of Denella's laughter filled the confines of the workshop.
The building itself was a relatively new addition to Rayo’s business. Built by father and daughter together two summers ago to help protect whatever projects they were working on from the elements of the Orpheus IV colony outside. It was a large enough workspace to house two or three different shuttles or pods at once, depending on their size. But for the moment, only the troublesome Corvallen vessel was taking up space.
“Ok,” Denella sighed eventually,” If you really want to do something before supper, maybe we can finish stripping down the port sensor housing before—”
“Oh no,” Rayo countered with a shake of his head, gesturing to the light summer dress she had changed into, “You’ve taken your overalls off, so no more work for you today. Do you have any idea what your mother will do to me if you ruin another outfit?”
Denella stifled another laugh, recalling the ashen look on her mother’s face when she had walked into the house a few days ago, wearing a previously pristine dress that was now covered in several thick streaks of dirt from her sudden and impromptu decision to fix one of the pod’s burned-out plasma relays.
“Besides,” he continued with a tired sigh, “You’re right. Best we come back to all this in the morning after we—”
He paused for a moment and suddenly looked a little weak, reaching out a hand to support himself on the shuttlepod itself for a bit of stability.
“Are you ok?” Denella asked, placing her hand on his other arm with concern.
Rayo took a deep breath, then nodded his head and smiled.
“Just a little light-headed, that’s all.”
“You’re working too hard,” Denella chided him, still with an edge of worry.
“We’ve got to work hard with this one,” he countered, “If we don’t get those impulse engines working, we’re not gonna get half the price we deserve for this thing.”
Denella knew he was right. As rare and collectible as the Corvallen shuttlepod was, most collectors would rightly want to negotiate a hefty discount for any example still requiring complex repair work. And having paid a decent amount for it at the auction in the first place, she knew that her father was determined to maximise their profits from this one.
Hence why the broken impulse engines, and the problematic coil inducers, were causing both of them so many headaches.
Rayo noted the continued worry on his daughter’s face, and stood back up tall to reassure her of his condition.
“It’s ok, Denella. Must’ve just stood up too fast. Now, I guess I should get myself cleaned up before supper, hmm?”
She looked at his grimy overalls and dirty face and pictured her mother’s reaction if he showed up at the meal table like that.
“If you know what’s good for you,” she nodded with a more relaxed chuckle.
Rayo laughed back, before turning back to regard the frustratingly un-repaired shuttlepod next to them with a slight grimace.
“And then tomorrow,” he added, “We can take another look at those coil inducers. I tell you, I’m gonna get this thing flying again if it’s the last thing I do.”
“We’ll both take a look, together,” Denella reminded him, “So you can stop thinking about overworking yourself, ok?”
“Yes, sir. Of course, sir,” the burly Orion man replied, snapping a sharp salute at his daughter for good measure.
She laughed again, before walking back out of the workshop. She could already smell the flavours of supper drifting over from the open kitchen window, as her mother worked tirelessly on a considerably more practical project of her own.
Rayo watched his daughter leave, then gathered up the tools from the ground next to him and carried them back over to the workbench along the back wall of the room. He spent some time diligently returning each tool to its designated spot on the bench, or in the storage cupboards below, or the shelves higher up on the wall. Just like a good engineer should do, making sure everything would be readily available next time he needed it.
As he worked, his mind again raced with possible solutions to the perplexing case of the seemingly irreparable impulse drive, trying not to worry too much about what he might do if he really couldn’t repair it, given the latinum he’d spent to acquire the ship in the first place.
A stray thought crossed his mind, and he felt a sudden engineer’s urge to return to the underside of the vessel to pursue his new theory. But just as he was about to get back to work, he caught the scent of supper and remembered his daughter’s words. And decided it could wait until the morning.
He slipped one tool from the workbench into his pocket, and then slipped off the dirty overalls and hung them up in the storage locker to one side of the bench. Then, clad in the t-shirt and knee-length shorts he had been wearing underneath, he set off for the sonic shower back in the house.
Halfway across the expanse of the workshop, he stopped in his tracks.
Orions, particularly the males of the species, were singularly strong as far as humanoids were concerned. Which was often a huge benefit, given how tough and violent the galaxy could be. But it could also be a hindrance when it came to simple medical conditions. Causing otherwise strong and healthy Orions to completely ignore or miss any warning signs of a deeper physical issue inside themselves.
Rayo had never even considered that his moment of light-headedness when he had stood up earlier was anything more significant than a spot of tiredness until he felt the sudden searing pain in his chest consume him.
He fell to the ground, and slumped down next to the still-unfinished Corvallen shuttlepod.
Outside, Denella was halfway back to their family home, taking her time as she enjoyed the evening sunshine over the colony, when she heard the thud from back in the workshop. She turned back around to the building in confusion.
“Father?” she called out, with a wry smile as she wondered what new curse word she was about to hear this time.
There was no reply.
She took a step back towards the workshop, now a little concerned.
“Father…?”
She waited for a response.
But all she got back was a deathly silence.
Note: Rayo first appeared (also in flashback) in the Prologue of Star Trek: Bounty - 104 - "It’s Not Easy Being Green".
Another ‘adventure’ from the ‘annals’ of ST: Bounty is just about ready to go, you’ll be pleased, disappointed or entirely uninterested to hear.
As with most Bounty stories, it should hopefully work as a standalone tale without having to catch up with the previous 17 tales (and, I’m reliably informed, 660,000 words and counting
). But as a general refresher/catch-up, the Bounty Story Index is here and this story in particular picks up a plot thread/story arc established in Star Trek: Bounty - 111 - "Love, but With More Aggressive Overtones" which might be worth some background reading.As ever, I hope you enjoy reading!
Star Trek: Bounty is a slightly off-kilter series set in the Trek universe that focuses on the adventures of the ragtag crew of a small civilian ship, who do what they can to get by in the Alpha Quadrant. They're not exactly Starfleet spec, but they try to keep on the right side of the moral line where they can.
The story so far:
Star Trek: Bounty - 101 - "Where Neither Moth nor Rust Destroys"
Star Trek: Bounty - 102 - "Be All My Sins Forgiven"
Star Trek: Bounty - 103 - "The Other Kind of Vulcan Hello"
Star Trek: Bounty - 104 - "It’s Not Easy Being Green"
Star Trek: Bounty - 105 - "Once Upon a Time in the Beta Quadrant"
Star Trek: Bounty - 106 - "He Feedeth Among the Lilies”
Star Trek: Bounty - 107 - “One Character in Search of an Exit”
Star Trek: Bounty - 108 - "A Klingon, a Vulcan and a Slave Girl Walk into a Bar"
Star Trek: Bounty - 109 - "But One Man of Her Crew Alive"
Star Trek: Bounty - 110 - "Take Arms Against a Sea of Tribbles"
Star Trek: Bounty - 111 - "Love, but With More Aggressive Overtones"
Star Trek: Bounty - 112 - "The Woman Who Cried, Among Other Things, Wolf"
Star Trek: Bounty - 113 - "Something Bad Happened Today"
Star Trek: Bounty - 102 - "Be All My Sins Forgiven"
Star Trek: Bounty - 103 - "The Other Kind of Vulcan Hello"
Star Trek: Bounty - 104 - "It’s Not Easy Being Green"
Star Trek: Bounty - 105 - "Once Upon a Time in the Beta Quadrant"
Star Trek: Bounty - 106 - "He Feedeth Among the Lilies”
Star Trek: Bounty - 107 - “One Character in Search of an Exit”
Star Trek: Bounty - 108 - "A Klingon, a Vulcan and a Slave Girl Walk into a Bar"
Star Trek: Bounty - 109 - "But One Man of Her Crew Alive"
Star Trek: Bounty - 110 - "Take Arms Against a Sea of Tribbles"
Star Trek: Bounty - 111 - "Love, but With More Aggressive Overtones"
Star Trek: Bounty - 112 - "The Woman Who Cried, Among Other Things, Wolf"
Star Trek: Bounty - 113 - "Something Bad Happened Today"
=============================================================
Star Trek: Bounty
2.05
“Zen and the Art of Corvallen Shuttlepod Maintenance”
Prologue
Orion Free Traders Colony, Orpheus IV
Earth Year 2359
“Gisjacheh!”
The Orion expletive echoed out around the confines of the workshop space loudly enough to rattle the metal frames of the walls.
Denella came rushing in from outside, as if the familiar curse had been a red alert siren. The teenager raced across the mostly-empty interior space of the building, already knowing the precise source of the sound.
“Father?” she called out as she reached the single vehicle standing frozen in place on the far side of the workshop.
The Corvallen shuttlepod was a particularly sleek design. An early 24th century model, and one that was highly regarded amongst Corvallens and collectors alike. The small cockpit and habitation section was a flattened ovoid shape with a front nose that tapered to a sharp point. Twin curved wings sprouted off from the rear of the body for atmospheric flight, and two tightly-slung warp nacelles were located right on the underside of the craft.
It was a handsome vessel, prized for both its looks and speed, and also for its rarity.
Only a few hundred versions of this particular design had ever been made by a famed boutique shipmaker. And most had subsequently been scrapped by the Corvallens themselves, who lived in a region of space with limited raw materials that necessitated wide-ranging recycling policies.
This particular somewhat tattered example had arrived in Rayo's workshop several weeks ago after he had purchased it at an auction in a neighbouring Free Trader system. And, while such a rare and collectable ship was a potential goldmine for Rayo and his family once it was fully restored, right now it was proving to be little more than a major headache for both the engineer and his budding engineer of a daughter.
Ever since it had arrived, their repair efforts had run into endless problems. The unfamiliar design, coupled with old and worn-out components, a lack of freely available spare parts and some not especially careful previous owners, meant that this was becoming a particularly complicated restoration project. And one that Rayo seemed determined not to leave alone for any length of time at all.
“I thought we’d agreed to call it a day for today,” Denella persisted as she reached the stout pair of legs sticking out from underneath the main hull of the pod, “What is it you always say? A good meal and a good rest will give you fresh eyes for your problems?”
Rayo squirmed slightly underneath the pod, his left hand reaching down and grabbing a coil spanner from the ground next to his leg.
“I know,” the muffled voice of her father came back, “It’s just these damn impulse engines. I thought I’d try recalibrating the coil inducers again.”
Denella sighed patiently and playfully kicked his leg with her sandal-covered foot.
“We’ve already recalibrated them four times,” she pointed out, “And we’d decided that we’d just have to replace the whole assembly. Tomorrow.”
She added the final word with a pointed insistence that Rayo couldn’t help but smile at. As much as his fourteen year old daughter was following in his footsteps, work-wise, she could still sound just like her mother when it was time to tell him off for being a fool.
“I know,” he replied as he worked, “But this time, I wanted to try rerouting the power flow through the secondary—”
His explanation was cut off in its prime by a sharp bang. Followed by a wisp of smoke curling out from underneath the shuttlepod. Followed, inevitably, by another expletive.
“Gisjacheh!”
Rayo reluctantly slid himself back out from underneath the hull and saw his daughter’s amused face as she looked down at him with her arms folded in front of her.
“You know,” she smiled patiently at her foul-mouthed father, “You really shouldn’t be teaching your daughter words like that.”
Rayo clambered back to his feet and dusted down his filthy brown overalls, the green skin on his face smeared with dirt.
“If you’re going to be an engineer, you’re going to need to learn words like that.”
“Is that a fact?”
“Absolutely,” Rayo nodded as he wiped his hands on a cloth, “Any engineer worth their salt should be able to swear in at least six different languages.”
The sound of Denella's laughter filled the confines of the workshop.
The building itself was a relatively new addition to Rayo’s business. Built by father and daughter together two summers ago to help protect whatever projects they were working on from the elements of the Orpheus IV colony outside. It was a large enough workspace to house two or three different shuttles or pods at once, depending on their size. But for the moment, only the troublesome Corvallen vessel was taking up space.
“Ok,” Denella sighed eventually,” If you really want to do something before supper, maybe we can finish stripping down the port sensor housing before—”
“Oh no,” Rayo countered with a shake of his head, gesturing to the light summer dress she had changed into, “You’ve taken your overalls off, so no more work for you today. Do you have any idea what your mother will do to me if you ruin another outfit?”
Denella stifled another laugh, recalling the ashen look on her mother’s face when she had walked into the house a few days ago, wearing a previously pristine dress that was now covered in several thick streaks of dirt from her sudden and impromptu decision to fix one of the pod’s burned-out plasma relays.
“Besides,” he continued with a tired sigh, “You’re right. Best we come back to all this in the morning after we—”
He paused for a moment and suddenly looked a little weak, reaching out a hand to support himself on the shuttlepod itself for a bit of stability.
“Are you ok?” Denella asked, placing her hand on his other arm with concern.
Rayo took a deep breath, then nodded his head and smiled.
“Just a little light-headed, that’s all.”
“You’re working too hard,” Denella chided him, still with an edge of worry.
“We’ve got to work hard with this one,” he countered, “If we don’t get those impulse engines working, we’re not gonna get half the price we deserve for this thing.”
Denella knew he was right. As rare and collectible as the Corvallen shuttlepod was, most collectors would rightly want to negotiate a hefty discount for any example still requiring complex repair work. And having paid a decent amount for it at the auction in the first place, she knew that her father was determined to maximise their profits from this one.
Hence why the broken impulse engines, and the problematic coil inducers, were causing both of them so many headaches.
Rayo noted the continued worry on his daughter’s face, and stood back up tall to reassure her of his condition.
“It’s ok, Denella. Must’ve just stood up too fast. Now, I guess I should get myself cleaned up before supper, hmm?”
She looked at his grimy overalls and dirty face and pictured her mother’s reaction if he showed up at the meal table like that.
“If you know what’s good for you,” she nodded with a more relaxed chuckle.
Rayo laughed back, before turning back to regard the frustratingly un-repaired shuttlepod next to them with a slight grimace.
“And then tomorrow,” he added, “We can take another look at those coil inducers. I tell you, I’m gonna get this thing flying again if it’s the last thing I do.”
“We’ll both take a look, together,” Denella reminded him, “So you can stop thinking about overworking yourself, ok?”
“Yes, sir. Of course, sir,” the burly Orion man replied, snapping a sharp salute at his daughter for good measure.
She laughed again, before walking back out of the workshop. She could already smell the flavours of supper drifting over from the open kitchen window, as her mother worked tirelessly on a considerably more practical project of her own.
Rayo watched his daughter leave, then gathered up the tools from the ground next to him and carried them back over to the workbench along the back wall of the room. He spent some time diligently returning each tool to its designated spot on the bench, or in the storage cupboards below, or the shelves higher up on the wall. Just like a good engineer should do, making sure everything would be readily available next time he needed it.
As he worked, his mind again raced with possible solutions to the perplexing case of the seemingly irreparable impulse drive, trying not to worry too much about what he might do if he really couldn’t repair it, given the latinum he’d spent to acquire the ship in the first place.
A stray thought crossed his mind, and he felt a sudden engineer’s urge to return to the underside of the vessel to pursue his new theory. But just as he was about to get back to work, he caught the scent of supper and remembered his daughter’s words. And decided it could wait until the morning.
He slipped one tool from the workbench into his pocket, and then slipped off the dirty overalls and hung them up in the storage locker to one side of the bench. Then, clad in the t-shirt and knee-length shorts he had been wearing underneath, he set off for the sonic shower back in the house.
Halfway across the expanse of the workshop, he stopped in his tracks.
Orions, particularly the males of the species, were singularly strong as far as humanoids were concerned. Which was often a huge benefit, given how tough and violent the galaxy could be. But it could also be a hindrance when it came to simple medical conditions. Causing otherwise strong and healthy Orions to completely ignore or miss any warning signs of a deeper physical issue inside themselves.
Rayo had never even considered that his moment of light-headedness when he had stood up earlier was anything more significant than a spot of tiredness until he felt the sudden searing pain in his chest consume him.
He fell to the ground, and slumped down next to the still-unfinished Corvallen shuttlepod.
Outside, Denella was halfway back to their family home, taking her time as she enjoyed the evening sunshine over the colony, when she heard the thud from back in the workshop. She turned back around to the building in confusion.
“Father?” she called out, with a wry smile as she wondered what new curse word she was about to hear this time.
There was no reply.
She took a step back towards the workshop, now a little concerned.
“Father…?”
She waited for a response.
But all she got back was a deathly silence.
Note: Rayo first appeared (also in flashback) in the Prologue of Star Trek: Bounty - 104 - "It’s Not Easy Being Green".
