Tech support warrior left cosplay battle and Trekked to the office

Set aside the bat'leth to fix trivial problem for p'takh

On Call Welcome to the year 2025, which just three days ago was in the future! Welcome, also, to a new instalment of On Call, The Register's Friday column whose ongoing mission is to take your kind contributions of tech support stories and share them with the world.

This week, meet a reader we'll Regomize as "Worf," who told us he once worked as part of a 14-strong tech team, each member of which spent a week on call and therefore carrying a pager that could only be pinged by members of the C-suite. When the pager went off, the execs who controlled it expected rapid service – at all hours of day or night.

When Worf worked this job he was very active in Star Trek fandom. So active that he participated in a fan club that he told On Call "didn't just wear Star Trek pajamas" but got together to role play life on a Klingon warship.

Worf even got into Klingon martial arts, and practised weekly with the "bat'leth" – a bladed weapon favored by the race. Doing so involved dressing up in Klingon armor.

Other members of the tech team practised different martial arts, and on the morning after practise would compare bruises with Worf in the office.

"We scared the Grethor out of management," Worf told On Call.

A quick primer for the Trek-averse

Klingons are a fictional warrior race and a staple of the Trek universe, initially serving as humanity's chief antagonist before becoming allies – a transition marked by the inclusion of a Klingon character named Worf in Star Trek: The Next Generation. Actor/director Leonard Nimoy apparently requested a Klingon language be created for the third Star Trek film, as he felt random gibberish insufficient. The language caught the popular imagination, and now Microsoft's Bing Translate can speak the language and inform us that "Grethor" is Klingon for hell.

One evening, Worf's bat'leth practice was rudely interrupted by his On Call pager.

"I had to leave practice and go straight to the office to help the exec who had paged me," Worf told On Call.

"Upon arrival, I stripped off all of my Klingon weapons," he told On Call. But because the C-suite expected fast service, he did not take off his armor, gauntlets, or the scabbards and holsters swinging from his belt.

Worf walked into his office as if it were any other day, picked up a copy of the work order, and started fixing the issue it described.

"I rapidly found the problem and resolved it under the watchful bugged-out eyes of a poor C-suite secretary and two of the senior execs," Worf told On Call. "Luckily, it was a very quick fix – just a printer config problem – and I felt this incident would enhance my reputation as someone who could fix things quickly."

He was also a little relieved that the fast fix meant his bosses didn't have to spend too much time looking at his costume.

But when the job was done, Worf couldn't resist going into character for one brief moment.

"On my way out, I turned and gave the Klingon salute and slapped my armor loudly before walking out of the mahogany door."

"I'll never forget the looks on their faces," Worf told On Call. "I was laughing all the way back to my puH Duj."

That's Klingon for "Car."

What's the weirdest outfit you've worn to a tech support job? And why were you wearing it? Dress up your story and then click here to send it to On Call, so it becomes part of this column's future. ®