Bridge Banter

Posted on 07 Feb 2024 @ 7:26pm by Lieutenant Commander Temerant Bast & Captain Bane Plase & Lieutenant Commander Stovek & Lieutenant Maralen Seitha & Lieutenant Raviran Dattek-Winters

Mission: Enigma Variations
Location: USS Cygnus Main Bridge
Timeline: 1425 hours

Alpha shift was in full swing, and the crew of the Cygnus was hard at work on their mapping assignment in Sector 7447. Normally, this initial mapping survey would have been performed by one of the Fleet's dedicated science vessels, like an Oberth or a Nova class. But for reasons that a crew on a ship of the line cannot comprehend, this survey had been prioritized by Starfleet Command; thus, one of the Fleet's most powerful scientific platforms had been tasked with one of its most menial assignments.

That isn't to say that things were dull on the Cygnus. Quite the opposite, actually; the crew was engaged in some very interesting (and sometimes embarrassingly personal) conversation. Lieutenant Commander Stovek, the newest member of the vessel's Bridge Crew, was making a point to get well-acquainted with his new crew mates. The topic was somewhat random, but purposefully so; hearing the opinions of others on a wide variety of subjects tends to build teams more effectively.

"I, for one, do not understand the appeal," said Stovek, turning his seat slightly toward the center of the bridge. "It is, after all, basically just chips and cheese. If I want to have something to eat while I am attending a theatrical production, I would want something with more substance. Does anybody else have an opinion on movie theatre nachos?"

"Only that they're full of old fashioned MSG to make you eat more of them. Give me an even less healthy bag of chocolate coated nuts. Much nicer!" Ravi smiled across from the Medical Console. "Or ice-cream if you like? Nothing in any of them that a doctor should recommend unless they were trying to tote for more business by the way of more sick people!"

“It is all, essentially, food that is devoid of nutritional value,” responded Stovek. “But is that not the point of attending a theatrical production outside of the home environment? To experience something different, something unique.”

Bane had been listening to the conversation go on for the better part of the last fifteen minutes with amusement. This time, though, he chose to take part. "We didn't have anything like movie theaters back on Bajor when I was growing up," the Captain said, referencing the Occupation. "Apparently it is a thing teenagers have been doing on Earth for centuries, though. When I got to the Academy, some of my human friends took me to my first movie. I am partial to the popcorn, with copious amounts of butter. Mmmm," he said, wishing he now had a bowl, if nothing more, than to watch this exchange and munching happily.

Bast looked up from the Science station where he'd been hovering behind Ensign Saint-James's shoulder, looking at the screen. "Probe Alpha-Six has identified a potential source of xyrillium," he reported. He straightened his back and returned to the command center. "Snacks aren't allowed in concert venues on Trill, but something I tasted back at the Opera House on Kronos comes to mind. A special variety of dehydrated gagh. Very high in protein, and just crunchy and salty enough to qualify as a movie snack."

Bane squished his face in disgust. "Yuck. Gagh jerky? Sounds disgusting. Mr. Spangler, please mark that potential source for deeper study."

"Much crunchier than jerky," countered Bast. "A bit like fried noodles. And you can add any seasoning you like. Lamora was partial to cumin."

Maralen had been listening to the conversation around him but not engaging it as of yet. Sometimes it still messed with his mind how Starfleet operated. In the Realm, there was no cross-chatter while performing duties unless that chatter involved mission or duty related things. Here, however, they were carrying on a conversation one would expect to hear in Ten Forward, and it was still a bit odd to him.

Looking up from his Security console, he decided to put in his two credits' worth. Why not? Even the captain had. "Where I was raised, there was no such form of entertainment. But when I joined Starfleet, my roommate at the Academy insisted that I just had to experience it. I actually liked the nachos. The theatre she took me to had this spicy cheese on them." He shrugged. "Had to be careful not to get bumped and spill the container though. Getting that out of my fur would have been... unpleasant," he added with a chuckle.

“Indeed,” said Stovek, arching his left eyebrow skyward. “Perhaps nachos would be more appealing to a broader audience if the flavor was less…one-dimensional. If it…” The Ops console beeped furiously, a telltale tritone that indicated an incoming message. “Hm. Captain, we are receiving a distress call on a civilian channel.”

The Captain, who had been smiling at the conversation taking place around him, immediate changed his whole demeanor. "On speakers, Commander."

The Vulcan wordlessly complied with the order, as he had been expecting it; the message was already queued up and ready to go. He simply pushed ‘play’.

“This is the independent freighter Bixilfiz to any vessel within range. We have suffered an onboard explosion and require assistance. Repeating, this is the independent freighter Bixilfiz…”

After the second playthrough, the distress call ceased. "Helm, set a course for the freighter, maximum warp, engage," Bane ordered. "What information do we have on this freighter," he asked to the room. "And how long until we arrive?"

Ensign Émilie D'Astous punched the helm console to enter the course that would take them to the freighter's coordinates and engaged the engines. She then brought up their estimated flight time. "Fifty-six minutes," she reported.

"Doctor Winters," called out Bast, regaining his seat at the Captain's right. "Prepare to receive incoming wounded."

Ravi looked up from the medical Console where she was sitting and instantly flicked her fingertips over the controls to end her log-in. She stood up right away.

"On it, Sir" she said quickly hurrying to the adjacent turbolift doors, on her way straight back to main Sickbay.

Bane watched the Chief Medical Officer leave the bridge, then turned to his Chief of Operations. "Commander Stovek, please forward all information you can get on that freighter to my computer." Without waiting for a response, he turned then to his Executive Officer. "You have the bridge, Commander. I'll be in my Ready Room contacting Starfleet about this turn of events." The Captain stood, and without saying another word, made his way to the forward port of the Bridge where his office was.

"Aye, Sir," replied Bast, standing from his seat. He resisted the impulse to take the center seat, and hovered over Stovek's shoulder, waiting for the report on the freighter.

“Information on the Bixilfiz is limited,” said Stovek flatly. “It is a custom-built vessel, with an estimated maximum velocity of warp factor eight point five. She is registered out of Coriana, a free port on the outer fringes of the Alpha Quadrant.” He paused as his fingers worked the console. “Forwarding the files to the Captain’s desk.”

"Lieutenant Seitha, have a security detail on standby for possible search and rescue operations." Bast turned back to Stovek. "Any information on its flight plan in the Federation database for this sector? I wouldn't expect an independent freighter to log a flight plan, but you never know, we might get lucky for once."

Maralen nodded, turning back to his board. No words were needed at this juncture as Bast had moved on to Stovek.

“Then I am afraid I must disappoint you, Sir,” said Stovek. “They have not logged a flight schedule, suggesting that it has not stopped yet in Federation Space. The freighter’s last registered stops were at Xanis II and Tiris V; I estimate a ninety four percent probability that it is headed for Son’a controlled territory.”

"Now there's a name we haven't heard for a while," said Bast, raising his eyebrows. "What are the odds they were carrying some illicit biotech material to the Son'a and it blew up in their face?"

Bast immediately regretted the question as soon as it was out of his mouth, as Stovek was certain to calculate said odds almost instantly.

“I recognize the rhetorical nature of your question, Sir. I could calculate those odds if you desire…suffice it to say, the chances are ‘quite good.’ Respectfully. “

From his place at Security, Maralen listened to the rest. He could make guesses as to the odds, but he did not bother. Instead, he focused on his board. Sending orders to his security teams, realigning them for having 'guests' and for possible trouble from said 'guests'. With some pride, he noted his people immediately following the orders with efficiency. Once it was done, he looked up at Bast. "The requested security team is ready, and I have realigned the rest for optimal protection in case any of our 'guests' get... unruly," he informed.

Bast raised his eyebrows and nodded, impressed by the Chief of Security's efficiency. "Thank you Lieutenant, let us hope their intervention isn't required."

He turned back toward the view screen and stared intently at the streaking stars, as though he could make them fly faster just by looking at them.

OFF

A mission post by

Senior Staff
USS Cygnus