[h1]Albert Hartwig[/h1] Albert was currently in the midst of finalizing the organization of away parties for doing salvage and field repair work when he was directly addressed on the comms. He had been listening in, the escalating combat situation and approval of the fossil of a war hero being sent into the vanguard being met with muttered cursing and mental additions to his list for repairs once the fighting was done. Of course, ultimately, the Prince would just go with whoever volunteered first. Though that was not his primary concern, the ship's comms officer wanted him for something. Lucia, if he remembered right, and he glanced at his datapad as he processed the information being sent to him. One of the convoy ships, not under direct attack but suffering from battle damage all the same. Initial raid grazed them, reactor was going to go super critical by the looks of it, and they were asking for damage control assistance. From a warship. A warship that was [i]actively[/i] engaging the same pirates that were still trying to loot one of their convoy mates. Wonderful. [color=lightblue]"Report received, let's see.....why did they even try to bring it back online like that? They should have reserve power for this exact situation just in....no, no they don't. They already burned through their reserve power trying to run silent, probably after the attack to play dead, and cocked up the reactor startup when it was that or life support giving out. Looks like stuck control rods, no auxiliary power generation that is intact or salvageable in time, so I get to play stabilize the reactor without killing power completely. Worthless second rate reactor designs...."[/color] Albert shouted for the nearest person, the messenger monkey from earlier (who was now promoted to equipment fetcher, truly his meteoric rise continued) to grab the spare reactor maintenance hard suits and be back here in five. The trip would take five, by his estimate, but he wanted to put the fear of failure into the lad, he had to get used to impossible demands. Like preventing a damaged reactor, with no backup power, from not only going super critical and turning into a dirty bomb, but taking the ship, and his damage control team, with it. Just another day on the job, he thought with full sarcasm, and about that point the good Captain, who at least knew how to mouth off which was bonus marks in his estimate, chimed in via the comms officer. Have a damage control party ready on a shuttle to launch over on a narrow pass between the Venture and Percehron, and move with a sense of purpose. Ah, good, he was going over after all. [color=lightblue]"Give the Captain my [i]heartfelt[/i] thanks. Already have eyes on a shuttle that no one thought to bolt down or put to use."[/color] Albert was deadpan in his response, and he grabbed a mix of senior technicians (the ones he would trust with actual work while he did the hard parts), an engineer or two (he would send them to parlay and tell the panicking damage control center on the Percheron sweet nothings to keep them calm and not bother him), as well as his returning equipment fetcher (who had the audacity to ACTUALLY make the run, grab the spare suits, and be back in time, he would find a use for the stubborn soul yet). More importantly, this mix would still leave plenty of useful talent, and not so useful message runners, to handle damage control on board the Indomitus should something go truly sideways, or enact Core salvage and field repair. Or he would finish on Percheron in time to shuttle straight over into the fray for field repairs knowing his luck. By the time his window was approaching, the shuttle he had commandeered, along with his daring and....mostly voluntary damage control party were ready to launch. He even 'borrowed' a pilot who was too slow to avoid him catching up to them, and was not actively attached to any other immediate operation, who was competent enough to thread the needle. Lucky him. [color=lightblue]"Hartwig here, damage control party all bundled up and ready to go on a field trip."[/color]