Engineers with Science Ideas

Posted on Thu Jun 19th, 2025 @ 8:25pm by Commander Gil’an Tyris & Lieutenant JG Elen Rell
Edited on on Thu Jun 19th, 2025 @ 10:21pm

2,133 words; about a 11 minute read

Mission: Prologue
Location: USS Guinevere
Timeline: 2387

The science lab always had an odd sort of vibe to Elen Rell. Not bad, exactly...just precise in a way that made her feel like she was walking through someone else's neatly arranged thoughts. She usually only came down here when something was broken and sparking. Today, nothing was technically broken. Yet.

She slipped in with the relaxed stealth of someone who fully understood her combadge was tracking her, but had made peace with it. She wasn’t doing anything wrong, per se, it was just…unorthodox. A little off-schedule. A little off-manifest. Which was sort of her brand.

In her hands, she carried a knitted square, about tricorder-sized, like it was some fragile alien relic rather than a slightly experimental, definitely questionable bit of engineering and crafting. Midnight blue, shot through with silvery spirals and a single pulse-line of copper thread across the center—reactive, thermo-sensitive, and possibly warp-dampening. Maybe. Hopefully. The yarn was polyfiber-blend salvaged from a downed emergency blanket, a disused replicator filter, and a trader’s stash she probably shouldn’t have trusted. But it had good give and felt oddly soft and comforting in her hands.

The lab was quiet: exactly what she’d hoped for. She spotted an unattended sensor rig and made her way over with the easy confidence of someone who did not belong there but was determined to fake it better than most people faked fluency in Klingon. “Okay, sweetheart,” she murmured to the square, setting it gently on the scanner like it might purr if she got the angle just right. “Let’s see if you hold phase stability outside a warp envelope. No pressure.”

The scanner gave a testy chirp. Elen frowned and smacked it gently on the casing.

“Don’t sass me, I’m a guest,” she said, with mock offense.

That’s when she saw him. Commander Gil’an Tyris. Looking all Science-y. Elen blinked. Then gave him a sheepish, lopsided grin. “I can explain. This is very scientific.” She held up the square with a flourish, then added with absolute sincerity: “Also? Cold feet are a real engineering hazard. I’m just being proactive.”

Gil raised his left eyebrow in a mock-stern approximation of a Vulcan. “You had me at ‘phase stability outside of a warp envelope’,” he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “What do you have there, exactly?”

She held it up for him to see, meeting his eyes before offering a small shrug. “Sample square. Basic knit and purl. I made the yarn...well, programmed it. It’s a plyfiber blend with embedded precious metals.” There was a beat, then a flicker of enthusiasm sparked in her voice as she explained her reasoning. “I was trying to make something that could, you know, maybe protect the wearer in case of a warp core breach and keep their feet warm. Naturally clean like wool, breathable, fire-resistant...comfort and chaos containment.”

She grinned, then looked mildly sheepish. “And then I got curious. So I figured: hey, science. Science knows things.” There was a pause, and her expression shifted as she realized something. “Oh. Right. I didn’t even...Elen Rell. Engineering.”

“Gil’an Tyris, Chief Science Officer,” said the Bak’u with a small smile. “Call me Gil, please. You could ask the replicator to spin you some yarn from peloxidine trichlorazine. It’s an extremely malleable crystalline compound. And…it has a curious extradimensional component as well. Might be useful in protecting against exotic radiation.”

Her eyes widened just a fraction, curiosity sparking behind them like someone had flipped a switch. She stepped in closer, voice low and intrigued. And more than a little bit appreciative. "Peloxidine trichlorazine..." she echoed, like the name itself was a delicacy she hadn't tasted yet. She ran her fingers idly over the knitted square in her hands. "What's the finger-feel? Smooth, snaggy, existentially crunchy?"

Then her head tilted, brows drawing together with mock suspicion. "And when you say extradimensional, are we talking the whimsical kind...singing colors, maybe a benevolent temporal loop? Or the bad-date kind where your hair tries to throttle you and your uniform grows extra opinions about violence?"

“For something spun from crystal, it will surprise you how silky the yarn can be. And I only know about the extradimensional component because I worked with Dr. Joran Maz, the Trill scientist that discovered that aspect and almost destroyed a Nova class starship with all of his safety procedures in the process.” He exhaled heavily through his nose. “My point is, it turned out to be a completely benign component and safe for integration into our technology. Our materials science just needs to catch up a little.”

She looked at him with genuine awe and clapped her hands once, the sound muffled by the soft yarn still in her grasp. "Oh! Silky I can work with," she said, her eyes lit up like he'd just offered her a toy she wasn't supposed to have. "And come on...almost destroying a ship doesn't even count. That's baseline Starfleet. Captain, crewmen, warp-baffled ensigns, gormagander…we all take a turn. It's practically a rite of passage. Midweek chaos, really."

She gave a casual wave, like ship-endangering accidents were as routine as power fluctuations. But her attention stayed on him, eyes narrowing just slightly...not with doubt, but focus. "So you really think that would outperform my Franken-yarn?" she asked, lifting the swatch a little like it might protest. "Because I'm not emotionally attached. Yet. But I am emotionally curious. And if you're telling me I could knit something extradimensionally resilient that doesn't itch or bubble, I might just fall in love a little." She paused, her hazel eyes wide...then she smirked. "With the material, obviously..." she took another pause. Then, purposefully lowered her voice. The teasing edge was there, an automatic way to see if she would get away with the flirting, harmless as it was. It was a reaction gauger. "Mostly."

Gil burst out laughing. “You’re cute. But I’m also married. To Commodore McEntyre.”

“Oh. Oh!” she laughed, the sound bubbling up like it couldn’t be helped, her whole face catching the light with it. “Well, hopefully neither of you will take offense. I'd have flirted shamelessly with him too if he wasn’t wearing the red. Power dynamics and all that.” She gave him a wink, cheeky, harmless, and her stance shifted into something easy and unguarded, like she’d just remembered she liked it here after all.

Then her gaze flicked back to the swatch in her hands and the moment sobered, just a little. “But seriously...do you really think that’s the way to go for the yarn? Peloxidine trichlorazine, I mean.” She held the square up again, but her focus was already turning inward, practical gears turning beneath the surface of the humour.

“I’ve got a few projects spinning, but there’s this petty officer in Engineering, they get cold hands like you wouldn’t believe. Circulation thing, not temperature. Nerve pressure, maybe? Anyway. I told them I’d figure something out that wouldn’t short out a panel or cook their fingers if they leaned too close to a plasma conduit. And I hate promising things I can’t build." Her voice trailed off for a moment as she thought, and then her mouth caught up half a thought later. “...So if this stuff really works...holds phase, doesn’t shred under EM variance, and plays nice with low-grade shielding...I’ll learn to spin it. Hell, I’ll knit a whole line.”

“I’d be willing to bet my PhD thesis on it working. I have seen Dr. Maz’s work firsthand. Sixteen lifetimes and seven centuries of experience on his part.” Gil paused for a moment, leaning against a console slightly. “Finding something with extradimensional components that can be produced in a replicator was, to put it mildly, revolutionary. Starfleet R & D is developing all sorts of next generation materials and technology based on that work. If you can get this to work, maybe you should file a patent.”

Elen let out a long, slow whistle. “Betting your thesis is serious currency. That’s like...putting your warp core on the roulette wheel and asking the universe to spin,” she said with admiration of his...well, confidence. She ran her fingers along the swatch again, a sort of absent-minded affection there, like the yarn had grown on her despite its flaws. But her eyes were already drifting to the console he leaned against, as if she could conjure the molecular structure of peloxidine trichlorazine just by squinting hard enough. “A patent though...” Her voice softened slightly, thoughtful now. “I don’t usually think like that. I mean, most of what I make starts out as a side-hustle to stop someone getting zapped, burned, or mildly electrocuted mid-shift.” She shrugged, a little wry. “But if this stuff holds up, and people don’t get fried or freeze because I was tinkering off the manifest...maybe it's worth more than a good story and a 'don’t tell the XO'."

She looked up at Gil again, meeting his eyes with something steadier than her usual spark. “Thanks for not laughing it off. Or confiscating my yarn for being suspiciously experimental.” Her smile returned then, crooked and bright, her mind already jumping ten steps ahead and her mouth followed it. “And for giving me a new rabbit hole to dive into. You realize you’ve just made my next three off-duty hours disappear into compound structure testing and transdimensional resonance mapping, right?” Then, almost as an afterthought but not quite, she added lightly, “And hey if your husband ever needs anything knitted that can survive a minor gravitational rupture, you know where to find me now. But I am actually making him something...just...hush hush, I am bad for starting things and not finishing them for ages. Unless it is small stuff. I don't think a blanket is a small thing though...”

Gil made a twisting gesture near his lips, as if he was securing a lock. His understanding of the gesture was that he was nonverbally saying he would keep the secret. “I don’t like to keep things from Elias. But I also know that he likes surprises. My lips are sealed. And I am all about new frontiers, in every aspect of life. I can forward you some of Dr. Maz’s research if you’d like, as well as my own take on extradimensional matter synthesis and exotic particle interactions. It’s quite technical, but I am certain that a bright and driven young lady such as yourself can understand a good portion.”

Elen blinked. "Young lady?" she echoed, one brow hitching up in amused disbelief, her grin already half-formed. “Now that’s either the nicest thing anyone’s called me this week or the most politely worded dare I’ve ever heard. Either way, I feel like I should curtsy or challenge you to a hoverwrench duel.” She paused for just a beat, then dipped into an exaggerated half-bow: all rogue theater, zero dignity, before straightening with a twinkle in her eye. “Much obliged, Commander. But you might want to be careful. Call me that again and someone might expect me to start behaving. I don’t need that kind of pressure.”

Her fingers drummed thoughtfully along the edge of the knitted square in her hands, the humour mellowing into something more contemplative. “But yeah, I’d love to see the research. I don’t promise I’ll understand all of it the first pass through, but I do promise I’ll try. And if I end up with yarn that deflects exotic radiation and doesn’t explode when you sneeze on it sideways…that’s a win in my book.” She took a deeper breath, glancing around. “I guess I should skedaddle back to Engineering...before I accidentally infect your beautiful lab with something warp core related.”

“My door is always open,” called out Gil as the young Lieutenant turned away. “Take care, Lieutenant Rell.”

Elen paused mid-step, her foot hovering in the air. Oh. Right. That was her rank, wasn’t it? She always seemed to forget that bit. "You too!" she called back with a cheeky grin. “Engineering’s easy to spot...just look for the yellow uniforms and the people who’ve realised they’ve forgotten half their tools!” She winked, then turned and practically skipped off, her step light and a little too bouncy for someone trying to act composed.

---

Commander Gil’an Tyris
Chief Science Officer
USS Guinevere

Lieutenant Junior Grade Elen Rell
Acting Chief Engineer
USS Guinevere

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