Maintenance

Shron walked down the corridor from engineering to the fighter maintenance bay which was oddly empty especially for this time of day. It was in the middle of duty shifts and usually pilots were streaming in and out of the corridor to the other parts of the 'Bays' as he called them. The only reason he knew this was because of Lieutenant Torin who wanted him to help in the maintenance of fighters. Usually the pilots denied his help because they are independent with their 'babies' like his father was but, he had his limits. Except this case is different because this pilot was two years older than him and very inexperienced in maintenance.

His father talked about this Paragon fellow a lot but, he never noticed it that often. He hadn't had a run in with him yet but, I think he just wants to set up some play dates with him. He walked into the Bay with an Engineering kit in hand looking at the young, or in his case older pilot to him, playing with something in the cockpit. He spoke and said, "Excuse me are Crewman Paragon? Wintrow Paragon?"

A yelp was heard from the cockpit as Wintrow was startled from his work. He leaned out and looked down while rubbing his head. "Oh hello. Let me come down, one moment." Agilely, he slid down the wing and landed on his feet. "I'm he, who are you?" His voice was laced with a thick accent, which could be led back to Scotland, Earth. His dark eyes, however betrayed a wholly different heritage.

Shron was stunned at the man that stood before him. He was taller than Shron yet was skinnier while Shron was more muscle. He knew that accent but, not by heart. He had heard many times from his Aunt. His face also betrayed his age making him look like a really tall fifteen year old. He kept starring at the man and shook his head snapping into focus. "Uhh..hey. I'm Shron Ezlam and I was told to report here to help with your maintenance." Shron took a PaDD out of his pocket showing the crewman his orders for the week. "My schedule shows to stay with you all day and help with your fighter."

"Hmmm, I don't really need help though... is it that you're an intern or something? I tend to my own craft."

"No I'm trying to get credits for the Academy. I'm pretty good with Engineering stuff especially conduits, consoles, and gel packs. I was just told to help with anything you needed help with and I was told your a newish pilot. Not trying to say your inexperienced or anything." Shron kept staring at the man as he pulled his PaDD back to his pocket. He knew something about this man that he hadn't found in someone else before.

Wintrow shifted under the Andorian's scrutiny, feeling a little intimidated. "Well, I am an apprentice pilot even though in good at it." He gestured towards his fighter. "Be careful with it, I have just replaced the targeting control system. Perhaps you can see if I've done it right?"

Shron went over to the fighter and looked inside the cockpit. He took out the target control with ease and looked back at the pilot. "Did you forget to screw it in?" He then looked back to the cockpit were the wires were tangled in a horrible fashion and needed proper sealing but, were perfectly aligned. "Nice job on the matching. Just not using the best stuff to seal stuff up. I have another tool in my kit that is very effective."

"I'm no engineer," Wintrow laughed, then gestured towards the dash. "Go ahead, show me."

Shron did a laugh and looked at the pilot carefully. In just the short time he had known the pilot he liked him a different way. Not the usual way with other people, guys in general. "Come over here and I'll show you the basics." Shron lifted a hydro spanner out of his kit and gave it to Paragon.

"Just how old are you," Wintrow asked as he accepted the tool, "and I guess you're a whizzkid in engineering? How'd you know you wanted to be an engineer?" He was just trying to make conversation, there weren't that many young men his age around on the Sarek.

"I'm sixteen and I'm what? I know many Human phrases but, not that one." He kept his eyes locked onto the pilot. He couldn't pull away from his gaze and got lost in thought. He began to go a darker shade of red, from nervousness. "I just saw many things that...that...um." He continued to get lost and snapped into focus. "I just found interests in engineering on my grandfathers old farm."

"Ahh. A tinkerer then." Wintrow grinned. "I'm not Human. Not entirely anyway, my dad was Human though but my mom was Betazoid. Sadly, I never knew her." He tilted his head, sensing the younger man's nervosity. "There's no need to be nervous, I don't bite. Much..." His smile widened, though he squirmed a little himself under the Andorian's scrutiny. A feeling reached him that he couldn't place. "Do you fly?"

"Yes something like a tinkerer. Really? My mother is human and father is Andorian. Well I guess you could see that." Shrons cheeks flushed red again. His skin tone was a tanner shade of white with the physical appearance of an Andorian. "Well it's good to bite...sometimes." He said loud enough for the pilot to hear but, not understand it. "I have never tried considering my father is a pilot."

"That's why I ask. My father was a diplomat, he was away alot. I found my calling while being the captain's yeoman for a while. Literally dropped in on the wing while on engineering assignment, and kind of stuck around. I love tinkering with my fighter it helps me focus. Or I play guitar or piano, though I'm still learning the latter." His eyes narrowed in confusion, turning an even darker shade of red. "Bite in what? Biting another person seems wrong. Vicious...I'd never do that."

"Yes well he was the not the only one in Starfleet. My grandfather and my mother are both in Starfleet. That's why I'm here since my father said to do whatever I feel is right and my mother forced me onto the Sarek. She loves me but, she didn't want me to go aboard the Crockett with her." His cheeks finally flushed to his regular tone and got comfortable with Paragon. "Tinkering is a hobby while fixing is a passion. That's what my Grandfather said before joining the diplomatic department of Starfleet." He started to avoid the topic of biting considering his remark.

"At least you have a mother who loves you. My parents are dead, my stepmother has a restraining order. And I only recently met my maternal grandfather." The young man's eyes hardened a little at the mention of his stepmother, colour draining from his face by a fraction. Thinking about her harboured bad memories, which he tried hard to forget. "He's on Betazed."

Shron was taken aback and felt really bad. "Oh oh my spirits! I didn't mean to do that I'm sorry. That was-crap!" He cut a bit of his hand in shock from the target control screen. "Ok well I'm sure your grandfather is proud of you even if you just met! Screw your stepmother she doesn't know what she's missing."

"No she doesn't, and I'm keeping my half sister safe from her too." The pilot shook his head. "Don't worry about it, you couldn't have known." He reached out and took Shron's hand, examining it. "You're bleeding..."

Shron ignored his hand and said, "you have a half sister? You made it sound like your grandfather was your only family. It can't be as bad as you think with a sister here. I'm an only child and I would love to have someone to hang out with." Shron thought to himself. 'Possibly more.'

"I keep her safe, I never said I was close with her. I don't know where she is either, that information I'm not made privy to, on purpose. She's revalidating somewhere. Her twin brother abused her, and used her in his abuse of me." A coldness crept into his voice as he spoke but his face was a mask of anguish and fear. "I haven't talked about them in a long while." He turned his eyes back to the console, while kneeling on the wing and leaning inside the cockpit. It was too small for them both to sit in. "Possibly more what?" he suddenly prompted, eager to change the subject.

"Ways to fix this...this...ummm." Shron was thinking about just blurting out his feelings. Then thought 'Why would he say that now. Paragon can't know my feelings.' He saw the feelings on Paragon's face and it startled him where his Antennae twitched. He could feel something was wrong. Also how did he figure out what he was saying-. Then it dawned on him that he was half Betazoid. Oh no.

"What's wrong? You just went white.." Wintrow tapped his shoulder to get his attention. "Fix what? There's nothing wrong with my fighter, it's just maintenance and upgrades. It'll fly just fine. And I'll probably need to redo my callsign on the nose, it's gotten a bit battle damaged. I sort of crashlanded the other day."

"Crash landed? How did you manage that?" Shron tried to avoid the 'what's wrong subject'. He didn't feel like going there yet. "Not fix, sorry wrong choice of words. I meant maintenance of your fighter." He went to the underbelly of the fighter and looked at the scrapped bottom. "Down here could use some paint to."

"I got shot at, and my fighter was out of control. I only got bruised, thank fully." He slid down the wing and joined the younger man underneath the craft. "You're right, it could. How are your brushing skills? Could use some help there...I'm a terrible painter you see."

"Another reason my father is crazy for being a pilot. I hope you didn't destroy half the fighter bay in the process because I would have to clean that up." He saw the tall man go under the fighter to join him. Shron rolled over to the other side of the fighter and saw some damage to the hull. "I'm an ok painter. My Vulcan friend is great at that. I even took some of her paintings with me and they are in my quarters. I could also patch this little bulkhead. If you took off anytime soon the torpedoes would fly out."

Wintrow smiled. "So we are crazy for loving to fly. So what does that make you for being a grease monkey?"

"A person who keeps everything nice, clean, and together. You should be thanking me for helping you with this since I'm the only one who did." Shron said with confidence. He was happy he chose to help this crazy ass pilot and not some jar headed engineer who will teach him everything on induction coils.

Blinking, Wintrow stared at him for a moment. "I never asked for help though," he pointed out, "I was managing just fine on my own like I always have done." There was a double edged meaning to his words, because in a way since he was about ten or so, he had sort of managed on his own. No-one who helped him, and no-one who even considered the possibility of child-abuse. Not even the doctors who treated him week after week.

"Wait really? I was told by Torin to help you all day today with your fighter specifically. Wait a minute." Shron thought a minute and finally realized that Torin or someone else wanted him out of Engineering. Then it clicked, his father. He wanted him to meet Paragon so I wouldn't be coupled up in Engineering anymore. 'Well at least I got to meet Paragon.'

Shron looked back up to the Pilot and noticed the look on his face. "Paragon what's wrong?" Shrons Antannae twitched frantically unsure of how to handle the situation.

"Nothing." He tried to smile. "I appreciate the company if anything. There aren't many near my age here on the Sarek, and being roomed with a marine who's always out on training, it does get kind of lonely. Please, my name is Wintrow, or Win...not Paragon. Senior staff calls me that, you don't have to."

"I like Win. It's different but, gives off a cheerful vibe." Shron thought a moment about what to say, still unsure on how to approach him being alone. Shron decided to wing it and said, "Well I can make you less lonely. I only work in the mornings from 0600 to about 1200. After that I'm free." Shron got kind of lost in what he was saying and looked back to Win. He was startled when a spark flew off the damaged breach underneath the fighter. It shocked his hand that had bled earlier and he yelled, "Damnit!"

"I'm here every morning. My afternoons are spent studying." Wintrow studied the injured hand. "Does it hurt? That shouldn't have happened.. I'm sorry." the older teenager looked away.

Shron met with the eyes of Win and said, "It's not your fault. You didn't have anything to do with this." Shron verbally gestured to his hand. He thought a moment and worked on the breach area with his only good hand as he hid the pain from Win. As he worked he winced trying to hide his face from Win so he wouldn't know. "I could probably stop by and help you study. Also if you don't mind me asking, what are you studying for?"

"You can't hide your pain Shron, I'm half Betazoid remember? I'm studying to become a better pilot but I'm also studying social care and psychology because I want to help people who have gone through the same as me, or similar. You can join me, I don't mind the company."

Now nearly black eyes settled on the younger man. "There's a medkit inside the cockpit, I can get it for you..."

Shron was so tempted to pull him into an embrace and kiss him at that moment. He wanted to and they were so close but, he stopped himself before going any further with the thought. Shron thought, 'You just met the guy. You can't kiss him yet.' "I'm ok I'll get through these repairs then go see Doctor Myles." He masked the pain and his eye twitched hoping Win wouldn't notice.

Shaking his head, Wintrow got to his feet and retrieved the medkit. There was that strange feeling again from the younger man and it put him a little on edge. "Come sit on the wing, I'll tend to it. No need to bother doctor Myles with what shell only call boys not being careful."

Shron got from under the cockpit and sat on the wings edge. He was debating many things in his head and was barely keeping up with his thoughts. He almost didn't notice that Win was talking again. Shron thought as Win started bandaging his hand and decided to wing it again. He pulled himself back hesitantly, scared of rejection. 'Oh to hell with my gut.' Shron thought and took Win in a full embrace and kissed him square on the lips. Shron ignored the pain from his hand and pulled back. "So-sorry. I-I..I'm tri...I'll go." He looked at Win and back at his tools. He gathered them up and left the maintenance area.