STF

Taking a Break

Posted Jan. 6, 2019, 4:52 a.m. by Commander Mason Black (Executive Officer) (David Shotton)

Posted by Lieutenant Commander Paris Carisi (Chief of Security) in Taking a Break

Posted by Commander Mason Black (Executive Officer) in Taking a Break

Posted by Lieutenant Commander Paris Carisi (Chief of Security) in Taking a Break
Posted by… suppressed (2) by the Post Ghost! 👻

Snip

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THREE HOURS LATER

Mason might have thought it was going to be a lackadaisical day lounging about in an apartment that brought to mind a city in the clouds from a long forgotten movie yet he could not have been more misguided. No sooner had he dropped his bag at the entry to the door, the console beeped showing an incoming message from the powers that be back in San Francisco. Since this was not a real weekender type event, Mason and his crew were still technically on duty even if they were not on the Asimov. After three hours of discussion about what was now being called the Ferengi Affair, details about the upcoming mission, and finally mind-numbing prattle about which Admiral was trying to scramble to the top while the Admirals speaking to him at various points was trying to stop it, Mason heard the sound of his freedom. A soft chime at his door indicating someone was seeking entrance.

“So Mason have you thought about transferring to San Fran,” Admiral Boxlight continued either ignoring the chime or not caring.

Lt. Commander Paris Carisi, COS

“I have considered it once or twice, but the opportunity was never right or available at the time” Mason said, trying to be diplomatic. “I’m also a Starfleet explorer, Admiral. Being out amongst the stars is where I really want to be.”

“Being cognizant of your potential and where your best chances for promotion are where you should really want to be,” the Admiral countered.

“Wait, Sir… you’re breaking up” Mason said, suddenly looking confused and straining to hear the Admiral, then squinting as if the screen had gone fuzzy.

“What? No, there doesn’t seem to be any interference on my end,” the Admiral cast an angry gaze at the ensign next to him.

“There seems to be some interference, maybe this colony is having....... an issue with it’s receiver, I am going to have to look into that”

“Is it the transceiver,?”

”..... let… me ”

“Come on Holmes get that line fixed. I am losing him,” the Admiral bristled only hearing every few words Black was repeating back. “Black....Black. Hold on we are trying to boost the line.”

”....try… and clear......” he said as he reached forward, and shut off the perfectly clear and functioning communication in the middle of whatever sound the Admiral was making. “Drats” Mason said with a disappointed tongue click, “Lost him.”

After that, he stood and moved to the door, knowing it was Paris that was finally there. Pressing the chime, he opened it, then as soon as he saw Paris looking back at him, he launched into his small rant. “Three hours?” he said, drawing out the word hours. “Three? How long exactly does it take you to get settled into your quarters Paris? Did you have to fumigate it then wipe it down or something? Three Hours woman? You put me on Paris Time didn’t you?” He said to her, and folded his arms in a very judging sort of way.

Cmdr Mason Black, XO

Paris gave Mason a funny look and then gestured at herself. She had always held the suspicion that men never really noticed any difference in a woman’s appearance unless they were dolled up for a night on the town or doing manual labor with mud smeared all over their cheeks. “Yes, I was busy,” she half squawked. ‘Look at me. There are cobwebs in my hair and enough grime that I am going to need an hour shower just to get the top layer off.” Paris threw her hands up walking into his quarters.

As Paris walked past him Mason opened his mouth to reply, but instead of doing so shut it tightly and made a face. Luckily, Paris couldn’t see him but whatever ‘grime’ she was talking about stank to high heaven. A slight gag action took place and he looked down at the carpet of the high end penthouse that he had been given to stay in, wincing at the smelly footprints his girlfriend was leaving behind. “Paris, baby” he said to here, following but making sure he stayed a discreet but effective distance away, “where exactly have you been to get in that state? And more importantly, why?”

“Remember when you said something smelled in the turbo? Well, I was just being snarky claiming it was Smythe but it turns out there is something rotten in Denmark. So Parsons ran a scan on the turbo. Turns out there was this residue in pretty much all the duct works from levels 10 to sublevel 86. Might go lower but our scan could not reach that far. The residue is a combination of decenaldehyde and trans-2-octenal. This may not mean a lot to you but when you are hip deep in it, it stinks to high heaven. This combination of chemicals is only found in the Halyomorpha halys or more commonly known brown marmorated stink bug. Now the scans of the fauna have shown no stink bugs but something is leaving the smell.”

“So we have a whole lot of” he waved a hand in the direction of the grime on Paris, “bug poo in the ducts, which follows the ducting down as far as we can scan through the sublevels and beyond, no good idea of what is producing it and a smooth talking corporate business suit who wants to make sure the colony, and his company, looks good and that Federation funding continues to pour in? That sounds like a really bad use of foreshadowing in a cheap B-grade holonovel, but I can tell by the smell that you might have, uh, put your foot on something.” Mason now came towards her with a smirk although his eyes showed concern for what she had discovered, and looked her up and down much closer. “That dinner is supposed to start in about an hour and we are supposed to be there, we need to get you showered, scrubbed and changed bub, and get that uniform burned.”

“On top of that,” Paris continued barely taking a breath. “The ducts have more armor than a blast door. It is like they are built to stop something but the question is what and why? The specs say they are solely for airflow. You should come see,” Paris said standing up taking Mason’s hand.

Lt. Commander Paris Carisi COS

As Paris took his hand and he felt the grime sliding between their skin, Mason winced again but it was too late now, he had been slimed. “Alright, we have time and if anyone asks, we will say we decided to run an inspection without the Company looking over our shoulders.” Instead of walking with Paris, however, he stood and held her hand firmly and pointed at the bathroom. “First, you shower and get that stuff off. We don’t know if it will have an effect on our skin and without Medical here to check it, we need to minimize the risks. Shower first, then we replicate some Bio suits and gear to go on this Spelunking expedition of yours.”

-------------- Elsewhere in the Tower--------------

Yes Sir, she entered the Commanders Quarters 20 minutes ago. She and that Engineer Parsons were in the ducting, they came out covered in the substance. Yes sir, we have people on the way to the access points now. They will block them from heading back in until we can use the thermite charges to purge the substance from the ducts. It was scheduled for tomorrow Sir but they arrived early as you know, we didn’t have time to purge it. We will just claim it’s a reaction from our mining operation, that produces similar vibrations Sir. Yes Sir, understood.

The Assistant Secretary of Security turned off the Monitor to the smooth talking suit and looked over at two of his bulky henchmen who both nodded and patted the bulges in their coat pockets. “You know what to do” he told them, “especially if they do not co-operate. Inspecting the mines can be a dangerous job when you do it without the correct safety measures. How unfortunate.”

Turning back to his monitors on his desk, the two henchmen looked at each other and wordlessly turned and walked away.

Cmdr Black, XO


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