Act I Scene I: Starfleet Hospitality

[ManWithDoor]

The nascent engineer stands from his seat, attempting a toast himself. He isn't sure what is going on with the Commodore that has changed his mood so immensely, so he is nervous that he might be stepping on mines he is blind to. But that is still better than sitting there silently, letting the awkwardness grow.

"Commodore, on behalf of myself and my fellow Cadets, propose a toast to the USS Pas-de-Calais! And to her crew!" He raises his glass for the toast. "As for myself, I am a life-long spacer, so this is a luxury liner compared to the cargo haulers I spent my childhood in. As I am sure all here are aware that our good Commodore is more than the commanding officer of the USS Pas-de-Calais, but also has upon his shoulders the role of Fleet Commander of Colony Logistical Support in the Federation's fourth Quadrant." Alik nods his head in respect. "Me and my parents hauled everything from food to ore to medical supplies all over the Federation and beyond, doing our part. It is my honor to be of service to officers that oversee the direct care of hundreds of worlds."

[Orvost]

“Don’t Patronize me, cadet. I know you never wanted to be here.” The voice of the commodore is cold, impatient, and matter-of-fact. The room goes completely still and you swear the temperature decreases as well. Noticing the change in mood, the commodore looks up. “None of you wanted to be here.”

Realizing he has made a scene, and that his statement requires further explanation, Commodore Singh stands, walks over to a wall, and starts examining a large model of a Daedalus Class starship as he continues:

“You were all recruited into Starfleet with promises of exotic destinations and exotic lovers in every port. They certainly didn’t sell you on the necessary, logistical heavy lifting that happens behind the scenes in our ever-expanding Federation. Now that bias runs through the career-minded officer class in the whole of Starfleet. Everyone wants a post with Galaxy Operations. Nobody wants a post with Colonial Operations. The best officers look at this ship and see only career suicide, and no amount of pleading or begging will make them see otherwise.”

“Recently, I came to a realization: I am a supply officer. I don’t beg--I REQUISITION. I decided to requisition the officers I needed from the only officers who have very little say in where they are posted: Cadets. I think you all would be dismayed to know just how little reeling and dealing it took to divert your Starfleet careers to meet my needs.”

“So now I have you for the next six months. During that time I expect you to perform at the level your academy credentials suggest you are capable of.”

Commodore Singh turns back to look at everyone seated at the table. Everyone is still in shock or confused. Whatever celebratory mood he was hoping for is now irreparably soured, especially with his continued presence.

”Excuse me.” he mutters as he strides back through the door he entered, followed by the security guards who accompanied him.

Several awkward moments pass in silence. Then Commander Chekov starts laughing.

”If he thinks…” Chekov can’t continue as another bout of laughter wracks through him. It takes a few moments before he can continue. ”If Singh expects me to mollify the situation after that outburst, he has another thing coming!”

Chekov stands up from the table and starts to go toward the main exit. ”Enjoy the meal. It was prepared especially for you!” When he reaches the door, he suddenly turns to address you:

”I almost forgot. Tomorrow you have a spacewalk! The competent technicians of Starbase 11 left the job half-done when they installed our new deflector dish. We need to do the physical calibrations. By morning we will be orbiting a remote colony, where we can send, bounce, and receive our own communication signal to help in the calibrations. While at Starbase 11, our last stash of EV-2 environmental suits was discovered and replaced with EV-3 suits. I understand all of you were trained on the new EV-3 suits at the academy. Until our tech crews get around to reviewing the training materials on the EV-3 suits, you are the most qualified to perform this task. We will meet you at the airlock outside main engineering tomorrow at 700. Good night.”

With Chekov’s departure, the awkward silence returns. The first to speak up is Campeador, with the question most people have on their mind: “Was it something Alik said?”

[ManWithDoor]

Alik's face goes cold, and a little hostile, at the Commodore's dressing down. Yes, he was disappointed to not get the shiny assignment to a fancy new Constitution-Class in Galaxy Exploration, but Military Operations would not have actually been his second choice. "I wasn't just brown-nosing, you know. Sure, adding some shine to the situation, but this was a social event so kinda expected." He still picks at the food and drink - he isn't about to let a hostile situation ruin his appetite.

Campeador may have caused him sideways drama, but he doesn't hold that against her. He takes her statement in good humor and chuckles at himself. "But I guess I just said the wrong thing at the wrong time. But still, was honest about seeing the best of our situation here. I can do a lot more good in Colonial Operations than just hauling cargo with my parents. Starbases and such have the power to get anything they want, but an out-of-the way backwater, or struggling settlement far from Earth or Vulcan? Not so much. I like how the Commodore put it - he REQUISITIONS." He does his best to imitate the emphasis Singh put on it. "Power can be used in all sorts of ways. I think he'll use it for good."

"But we do have an early morning doing a space walk. I put in more hours than the rest of you, adding on being on the engineering team installing those deflector dishes and the like." He groans internally at the memory of pulling that almost triple shift, calibrating the damn thing. "If anyone wants a refresher or a dry run on the equipment before 0700, let me know. The best thing we can do right now is to excel."

[Orvost]

GM Note

As a reminder:
Campeador is the male security officer.
Weathers is the female helmsman.
Serao is the Andorian communications officer.
I thought there may be some confusion about that in your last post.

Weathers is the first to show Alik her support. She comes over to him and tries to give him a hug, but his chair is in the way so she pats him reassuringly on the shoulder.
“Pay no mind to what the Commodore said. He had a bug up his ass the minute he walked in the room.”

Campeador laughs at Alik’s imitation of the commodore. Like Alik, he is more than content to enjoy the meal with a small group of friends as dinner guests. He starts spooning portions onto his plate and asking dishes to be passed.

Serao seems lost in thought, mouthing to words ‘bug up his ass’ to herself.

Chef Maxwell and the waiting staff remain eager to serve, whether out of sympathy or duty it is hard to say.

The cadet class of the Pas-de-Calais find themselves alone, yet together again and enjoying a few hours of fine dining. Serao insists that everyone try the Andorian dishes which, she assures everyone, are as authentic as you could find off of Andor proper.

Campeador confides in everyone that Bart, the Orion Trader they met at Starbase 11, was dealing in Orion and Klingon contraband. When Campeador was asked to look into the Orion’s operation, he found falsified manifests and had Bart’s cargo confiscated. Now that confiscated cargo is aboard the Pas-de-Calais because the port authority on Starbase 11 wasn’t willing to wait for a merchant marine vessel to come pick it up. The Pas-de-Calais now has to plan a rendezvous to unload it, which has the Commander and the Security chief grousing at Campeador.

The night ends with a round of toasts. First everyone’s toasts are impersonations of Alik with ‘intentionally unintentional’ insults that would have justified the commodore’s response. Then the toasts change to things Alik could have or should have said instead of or in addition to. Finally, after everyone is through hamming it up at Alik’s expense, they offer sincere toasts to each other, to their cadet class, and to their continued success. Everyone returns to their rooms together laughing and conversing. There doesn’t seem to be any concern about the job they have to do in the morning.

[ManWithDoor]

The good-natured ribbing is much more the kind of Carousing that Alik can get behind. He knows he can be a bit much sometimes. Sometimes that's because he's an engineer and gets into the tech too much. Or sharing his background of being a Spacer (which manages to work itself into just about any conversation that mentions anyone's past). Or just a bit ago his attempt at grandiose speech, which so spectacularly backfired. Totally sucked in the moment, but it was made so much better by the companionship he has here. Almost immediately moved to a humorous misstep, rather than something to obsess and worry over.

He commiserates with Campeador since they both seem to have gotten on the nerves of the command staff, although Orion/Klingon contraband is a way cooler reason to have accomplished that. He hadn't gotten the details on the confiscated cargo, so asks if there was anything particularly interesting in the haul.

Given that the others don't take him up on the offer of a refresher course, he drops it and just enjoys their company. Still, he plans on showing up a half-hour early in the morning to examine the equipment before the rest of the Cadets arrive, to hopefully fix any problems before they start.

OOC

*sigh* Evidently keeping a whole 3 fellow Cadets straight is too much for my mind. Lol. Yes, I confused them in my previous post. Moving on ...

[Orvost]

Campeador tells Alik that the Klingon cargo is several casks of medical gel. Fairly innocuous. The real prize is the Orion cargo. It seems Bart was involved in the green slave trade. There is a real live Orion slave woman aboard ship! The command staff are trying to keep it hush-hush, but word is getting out. She’s in a security holding cell and members of the crew are starting to try to sneak a look. Campeador is her unofficial babysitter since the whole confiscated cargo is his responsibility. As more security personnel become infatuated by her, and more crewmembers find out about her, his job is getting harder and harder. When the commodore referenced lovers in his weird speech, he was probably mindful of the headache her presence was causing. Orion slave women epitomize the concept of the exotic alien love interest. They feature prominently on many Starfleet recruiting posters.

Stardate 1/9408.29

Alik is up early to prepare for his spacewalk. He finds the ship’s store of EV-3 suits that have never been used. Of course, he chooses a tan engineering suit that fits him. As he waits outside Main Engineering for his companions, the engineering day crew members that Alik met the day before come on duty. They whistle and cat call at the figure he cuts in the new-fangled enviro-suit. They ask about dinner. As they make small talk, cadets Weathers and Serao arrive. Both are wearing white EV-3 science suits. Nobody else shows up. When commander Chekov arrives to brief you, he confirms that all the other cadets have other pressing matters and will not be joining your expedition.

There are two other officers at the briefing, the Vulcan chief engineer Alik met yesterday, and Lieutenant Vandane, the chief communications officer.

Your briefing:

The Pas-de-Calais is now in high orbit over the remote Vulcan outpost of Calsa. It’s as ideal a location to conduct these calibrations as they could find. There shouldn’t be much background interference as sensors and communications are dialed in. Your progress will be monitored remotely in main engineering, but your main contact will be the bridge crew as you fine tune the dish systems to their preferences. You can’t be transported onto the dish because your magnetic boots have to be manually locked onto your work surface, but once you are finished they should be able to transport you aboard.

The new deflector dish wasn’t part of the ship design, it is a modular upgrade. That means it isn’t part of the ship’s superstructure; rather, it had to be secured to the superstructure. You will access the dish through main security located at the bottom center of the saucer. There is a bulkhead that used to serve as an airlock that now connects to the dish’s tower. You’ll move through the tower and onto the dish.

Any questions?

[ManWithDoor]

Hearing about the green Orion woman from Campeador does make everything make a lot more sense. It can be hard enough to have everyone doing their job smoothly. When their minds are on something (or in that case - someone) else ... yeah, not ideal.

OOC

Reminds me of World War II era posters about telling soldiers to keep it in their pants:

Poster

-----

If this is anything like the calibration he performed on that double+ shift on the Starbase, it will be highly detailed but otherwise unexciting technical work. And as long as the ship stays still and the mag boots work, there's no danger of flying off into the void or the like.

The only questions he has are technical, going over the order of procedures to perform so that everyone knows their part in this process.

[Orvost]

All Alik’s technical questions are fielded by the Vulcan who, despite his goofiness, knows his stuff. Alik gathers that this job won’t be too different than the job he did on the Maraxle in port. It is never explicitly stated, but everyone assumes Alik will take lead on this task and the other cadets will follow his directions.

With nothing left to discuss, the briefing breaks and cadets Craig, Weathers, and Serao make their way to main security. Alik notices that main security is like a fortress. The walls are reenforced to withstand heavy weapons and the main entryway is vulnerable to multiple angles of fire from within. Campeador must have been alerted to your approach because he is waiting by the entrance as you pass by. He doesn’t say anything, but gives a casual solute toward the three of you.

Outside the airlock leading to the dish tower, the three of you check and recheck your suit systems, put on and seal your helmets, and step into the tower. The door is shut behind you as the tower is depressurized and artificial gravity is deactivated. Many hand and foot holds make zero-g movement through the tower simple. As you open the door leading out onto the dish, there is a slight gust behind you as some stray gasses from inside the depressurized tower escape into open space. You activate your boots to adhere to the surface of the dish and look around. For your point of view, the dish looks like a shallow basin you are standing in the middle of, which stretches off scores of meters in every direction.

Serao creates a communications link between the three of you with her serving as the node. As a communications officer, it’s sort of her thing. You wait for several minutes before the communications link with the bridge crackles to life and a voice calls to you:
“Lieutenant Vandane reporting. Please acknowledge, then proceed.”

[ManWithDoor]

Alik nods to Serao, then talks into the Comm. "Cadet Craig responding. Communication clear, proceeding as ordered." While it wasn't the exact same, he kind of feels like he is Poljos, and the rest of the team are other-Alik's going about their tasks. He gains a new appreciation for the grizzled engineer as he guides and instructs the others in the calibration effort. At least this time he isn't solo-ing the space walk, and instead has many hands to help. Less experienced hands that he has to oversee and supervise, but better nonetheless.

[Orvost]

Alik thinks back to Poljos and the dish calibrations on the Tellarite ship. Having more hands doing the work on this job will make the process go faster, but the other two members of his team were chosen for their familiarity with enviro-suits and not their engineering know-how.

As the team takes some preliminary baseline readings, Alik briefly notices a flash of light that reflects off the surfaces around him. He thinks nothing of it until Cadet Weathers starts repeating herself, each time more urgent and fearful than the last:

“Detach.”
“Detach!”
“DETACH!”