You follow the acrid scent of burning insulation, pushing through a group of panicked ensigns. The trail leads you to a small access panel near deck four's junction node where thin wisps of smoke curl from the vents. Crouching down, you pry open the panel with trembling fingers to reveal a tangle of overheating plasma conduits - their normally blue energy lines now pulsing an angry red. Tiny sparks dance across frayed coupling nodes.

The system diagnostic display beside the panel flickers with error codes: 'Plasma flow regulator failure - Sector 4-Delta.' You remember this from your academy training - left unchecked, this could cause a cascade failure in the secondary power grid. The deck shudders violently as another proximity alarm sounds. Through the grating beneath your knees, you glimpse a shadow moving in the maintenance crawlspace below.

A gloved hand suddenly grasps the edge of the opening, followed by a grease-streaked face. Chief Oren's familiar scowl appears in the dim light. 'Apprentice! Either you're psychic or the only one on this damn ship who smells trouble before it explodes.' He shoves a plasma spanner into your hands as the conduits above you spit another shower of sparks. 'Get those couplings secured before we lose artificial gravity in this quadrant.'