Quinns got a closer look at the toilet, hoping he could glean more than something is leaking. Behind him, he heard Serge moving around. Quinns found it distracting, and he already had enough to worry about. His ever-growing to-do list flashed through his head, and his stomach turned. He needed to ignore it and focus on what he was doing.


    “I couldn’t find any issue with the connection or wax ring. May be the piping underneath.” Serge said.


    “Yeah,” Quinns said, getting up to dig the panel tool from the kit. He brought the whole kit closer before searching the bottom drawer. The tool would loosen the fastener on the opposite side of the panel. He rested the top against the floor and dragged it along the panel until it caught and held in place.


    “Will need to pull up a couple of the panels to get a full look at it,” Serge said. He was tall enough, he could see what Quinns was doing by leaning over him. Somehow, it made Quinns feel more cramped than the thin halls of engineering ever did.


    “Yep,” He said. When he got all the fasteners loose, he lifted the panel and had to lean back from the air that escaped. It was hot and pungent – a musty smell like the Bio room, but more concentrated. The heat was normal. Insulated panels protected the crew from the extreme heat generated by the engines. It kept living areas at a constant and comfortable temperature. Musty was the real problem. He held his breath and peered inside again. As he leaned in, Serge spoke up.


    “Wow. That’s disgusting,” Serge cleared his throat, “Gonna need some powerful cleaners, but I can handle it. Just need a few more panels pulled up to get at it.” He said. Quinns barely heard Serge over the panic welling up in his gut.


    “Right.” Quinns stared at the moldy mess and felt his stomach turn again, for a whole different reason. After a gulp of clean air, he leaned forward, trying to get a look at where the leak was coming from. There was no obvious sign of water escaping. He tried flushing the system and looking again. Nothing yet. Or could it be a different toilet. Or another system entirely? The time the job would take up grew and grew.


    “Are you listening?” Serge asked. The interruption snapped him out of his thoughts.


    “Yes.” Quinns stood up. “I’ll need to get a better look at it before I can do anything.” He said, putting away the panel tool.


    “Yeah, that’s what I was saying. You sure you heard me?” He said. Quinns could understand why Serge was so annoyed. Everyone always needed their fixes right away.


    “I heard you. I’m working on it.” He pushed the toolkit out of the way. “And I’m doing it right away.” He added. Serge didn’t seem happy with his answer. There wasn’t anything more he could do about that. Serge followed him out into the breakroom. Serge paused at the door’s panel to display an out of order message and to turn off the automatic open. He even set the room as toxic.


    “Gonna need a mask and increased ventilation cleaning that up,” Serge said. Quinns’ lungs felt tight remembering the initial gust of air. He sighed, breathing in the clean air in the breakroom. This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    “Yeah. This won’t be an easy one.” Quinns said. He was starting to think Serge was only rubbing it in. He just wanted to get on with it.


    “You aren’t kidding,” Serge said. Quinns wasn’t sure how to get away, so he opted for something blunt.


    “I’m gonna go, and I’ll come back later.” He said and made his way to the exit.


    “See ya later.” Serge’s voice followed him on to the bridge. Gary was still there, still facing toward him, but he had gone back to reading. Quinns had to resist the urge to tiptoe to the exit. Worrying about the plumbing issue had taken a toll on his energy for dealing with others. Instead, he closed his eyes and walked like a normal human being.


    “How’d it look?” Gary asked, looking up from his PD. Quinns shook his head without pausing. “That bad, huh?” He said. Quinns picked up on the disappointment in Gary’s voice, and it irked him further. He felt his eyebrow twitch.


    “Yeah. That bad.” He said as the exit slide open. Just gotta make it out of the bridge and into the service halls.


    “Quinns?” Gary’s voice was concerned. Quinns waved it off.


    “I’ll talk about it later. Got work to do right now.” He said, the door sliding shut behind him. Almost there. The quiet peace of the empty hallway was a massage on his aggravated shoulders. He slid into the service hall in the same place he had exited. Cramped in the thin halls, he felt safe.


    ***


    Serge stood, arms crossed, staring at the closed bathroom door. He lifted his hand and rested his chin on his knuckles. Nearby, Quinns found the longest way to say he was leaving Serge could imagine. Serge didn’t bother glancing at him.


    “See ya later.” He said. When the exit closed behind him, Serge broke his gaze and glared at the exit. Maybe Quinns would feel it through the metal barrier. Serge was seething. Quinns had completely dismissed him. Not a single word Serge said penetrated that guy’s self-important bubble. But again Serge was stuck in a situation where he needed to bottle it. Instead of dwelling on it, he preferred action. Robbed of that, he would focus on creating a concrete plan.


    He pulled his hand away from his chin and cracked his fingers. Each pop released the tension in his muscles. Sachi would complain again that he was going to need joint treatments before he was thirty. But it felt so much better afterward. So what if he took his bad mood out on his joints? The release cleared his head.


    He cracked his wrists and he knew what he was going to do. That was the easy part. The thing that gave him pause was when he would have the time. It had to be now. The sooner the better. He twisted around to glance at a clock on the wall. If he cleaned this mess first, and included time for a wash before cooking, he would still have enough time to prepare a simple meal for dinner.


    He set to work. First, he dug a mask out of his cleaning supplies. On the bathroom’s door panel he opened the maintenance settings to the air tab. Without hesitation, he slid both filtration and ventilation all the way to the top. Taking a deep breath, he entered the bathroom.


    The inside of the bathroom had grown hot and the musty smell had become overbearing. Even with the mask, he wanted to gag. The open panel was spewing putrid air. The bio lab came to mind, and he thought of Sachi. She’d want to see this mess. After sending her a quick message, he got to digging what he needed out of the toolkit that Quinns left behind. He would show that brat.


    ***


    Quinns was making his way to the back of the ship, his panic starting to subside. His feet carried him forward as he laid out the path forward in his head. First step, double-check on how the injector was running. It would be about halfway done, and seeing his work in action would inspire him to keep going. Second step, find the ship schematics and see if he could determine the exact piping used in that location. If he was lucky, Uncle Cole may have left notes regarding previous work done. Third step, research, research, re-


    He turned the corner, and his blood ran cold. Deep red lights blinked across the entrance to the fuel injector’s room.