You drop to your knees beside the sparking conduit, the acrid smell of burnt wiring filling your nostrils. Through the damaged panel, you see a tangle of glowing fiberoptic cables and power conduits. One primary coolant line has ruptured, spraying mist into the corridor. A flashing red indicator shows critical systems failing in Sector 12-B.

Your training kicks in. You reach into the panel, wincing as static electricity arcs to your fingers. Tracing the damage, you find the main relay for the lateral thrusters - if this goes completely, the ship could lose maneuverability. The emergency sealant canister on your belt feels heavy as you pull it free.

Just as you're about to apply the sealant, a deep voice booms behind you. 'Stop!' A massive hand grabs your shoulder. You turn to see a bear of a man with dark bronze skin and a network of scars across his shaved head. His engineering insignia glows gold on his chest. 'That's a plasma conduit, apprentice. Touch it wrong and you'll lose that hand.'

Chief Oren - it must be him - pushes past you and reaches into the panel with practiced ease. His thick fingers dance across the wiring, rerouting power with quick jerks of his wrist. The sparking stops immediately. 'Follow me,' he growls, hauling you to your feet. 'We've got bigger problems than this.'