Making It Right Alone
Time went a little funny, as it often does in deep space and deep code. Activity swirled around me, but I was lost to it, save the necessary bits that years of training and still more years of practice had habituated me to pick out of the din.
Captain wants this done. That problem has been noted. Another officer would like a status update or he’s going to throw a temper tantrum.
Code rolled out of my mind like rain from the heavens in monsoon season, or at least what I had seen in holovids of monsoon season. Slowly, painfully, I was bringing the ship back to rights, me, practically alone Sure, the gearheads and scut monkeys were pushing metal and wires into place, ants at the mound, simple shoulders at simple wheels.
I was making it right though.
Only, it wasn’t going entirely right. For every three problems I fixed with brilliant patches of logic another hiccup in functioning would sprout up. I was making progress, but it wasn’t fast enough, not as fast as I should be making progress.