Miles feels the shuddering of the engines, and gives the part of the mechanism that is making the loudest noise a swift kick.
"Shaddup, you hunk of scrap. Don't have time to argue with you, we're in a bit of a time crunch. Just get back to doing what you're told."
Morgan decides to confront the problem at its root: the engine coil! Hurrying towards the engine core, he worms through a darkened emergency access port to the "monitoring bay": a long crawlspace barely lit by amber incandescents, ringing the length of the ship between the engine coils and livable space. There isn't much observation to be had - the only view of the actual coils is through long narrow 'ports' of
very reinforced glass piercing the thick wall between the bay and the vacuum that the coils live in.
Still, through the glare put off by the struggling coils, he discerns the closest point in the bay to where the coils mount to the ship. Muttering, "shaddup, you hunk of scrap, just get back to doing what you're told," he squeezes around to that area. Winding up in the cramped crawlspace, he delivers a mighty kick to that panel and - by some mechanical miracle, the crackling
stops! There's still some worrying noise from the coil area, but the glare from the coils resolves to a healthier tint.
Something floats past him in the crawlspace - "up", out radially from the engine core towards the inhabited area of the craft. There's nothing to touch, but he's sure he saw a... flutter? a flicker? It's gone now. So is the noise.
Cobble together a magnetic chamber to contain the hypothesized 'curl'! This phenomena must be studied!
Dr. Mia nimbly disassembles a probably-nonessential equipment panel and looks over the components. A few coils, some wiry mesh, vacuum tube, reactive etherometer - yeah, she can work with this. She
fashions an
etheric tokamak, suitable for confining electromagnetic or etheric phenomena! Unfortunately, it doesn't look like she can manufacture another one without cannibalizing something actually important.
Dr. Mia can hear a faint crackling from nearby. Sounds familiar. Hoisting the tokamak in her mechanical chelicerae, she clatters off towards the mystery, nay, the opportunity!
Review sensor logs prior to the engine failure. Try to find hints of what might have caused this; was the ether outside abnormal in any way? Or perhaps something more subtle went wrong first, and it only caused a large enough effect to draw our attention after it grew?
Dr. Vellan worries at the cooling printouts as his colleague glides out of the room.
Sadly, he can't puzzle out much more from them. It seems like the information from the sensors on the front of the ship started noticing the curl first. Odd.
Players:
Engineer
Before the stars changed and everything went mad, Miles was a mechanic at a used car lot not far from Kennedy Space Center. As it turns out, being skilled at getting old clunkers up and running no matter what it takes is a useful skill in this day and age. Not afraid to get his hands dirty fixing what's broken. Percussive maintenance specialist. Friendly to a fault, and with a can-do attitude, this mechanic's never seen a problem he couldn't solve with a crescent wrench, two cans of WD-40, and whatever sciency doohickeys he's got in his toolbox.
Scientist
Mia isn't her last name, and she is only a 'doctor' in the loosest sense. She also happens to be the upper half of a human head grafted onto a six legged spider robot. Dr. Mia seeks to test the reaches of human discovery and possibility, and evidently is willing to go to some lengths in the pursuit.
Got: etheric tokamak
Scientist
A tall and lanky man in his late forties, unremarkable in appearance but notable for his excessively energetic nature, friendliness, and boundless optimism. He's often described as being akin to a genius puppy. When reasonable, he's usually seen wearing a labcoat with an impractical number of pockets, most stuffed with various tools and items of interest.
Engine's back to normal!
