Antiquated Hopes

Posted on Wed Aug 11th, 2021 @ 3:39am by Ensign Andrea Astor & Lieutenant Commander Brott

1,063 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: Prologue: Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow
Location: Civilian Transport Ship Orisa
Timeline: Current

With equipment and tools strewn about the floor, Andrea Jane Astor was entirely content and in a world of her own. Determined to make the most of the long journey from Earth to her new posting, the freshly minted ensign had a singular focus on completing the repairs to the the antique Type II phaser which was laid out before her.

It had been a graduation present, hand delivered by the 'Admiral' himself. Although, since it had come into her possession, she had started to consider the possibility that it may be cursed. Of course the idea was ludicrous. And yet...

To her left, a blinking red light coincided with a shrill alarm which pierced the air and demanded attention. Reaching out, she tapped the control panel on the workstation and tapped in the override sequence. Immediately a blissful silence was restored, albeit the warning light continued to flash. With a sigh, she shifted position and aimed a kick with the sole of her boot at the relay box at the base of the workstation. Immediately the light went out and, satisfied, she returned to her restoration project.

Such interruptions had plagued her journey and were, in part, responsible for her suspicion this particular item was cursed.

For one thing, while it was in need of some repair, this was an original Type II phaser - the kind Kirk and Co would arm themselves with when faced with danger. The actual casing was in perfect condition, although some of the internal circuitry was a mess. All in all, how it had survived all of this time was nothing short of a miracle.

And then there was the tiny, teeny really, matter of the trigger mechanism. Which, shockingly, was incredibly sensitive and cared not one iota if the locking mechanism was active or not. And by sensitive, she meant that she almost shot Lieutenant Grey when the woman escorted a group of her fellow graduates from Earth on the first round of their journey. It wasn't entirely Andrea's fault, but it also mostly was as she was too busy admiring the thing to disconnect the main power cell before the lieutenant had startled her. In her surprise, she had dropped it and well... the lieutenant was fortunate she was not a foot taller or had any antennae or other such appendages.

Then the ship that was supposed to take her to Bellwether Station suffered a complete system failure after an upgrade, leaving her trying to make frantic arrangements which included a dizzying array of passenger transports which were varying degrees of disasters. From the hypochondriac to the musician who would not stop humming the same three bars of a song - none were as bad as Lydia Deyton.

Lydia loved to talk and share everything. Everything! From her personal history to her favourite food to the bad experiences she had in her relationships - she never stopped talking. In fact, she barely paused for breath. So when the ship had dropped out of the pitifully slow warp two and lost power, she had done the only thing a Starfleet Officer on the verge of committing murder could do, she offered to help.

The captain of this fine vessel was unsure at first, but given his Chief Engineer was passed out drunk and the rest could barely duct tape a box together, he had relented and let her go to work after signing a disclaimer that she wouldn't seek damages if she happened to be injured while in this possible death trap. It was still a lot better than being two decks up where everything looked all shiny and perfect but you had people like Lydia.

And so it was that, on her fourth ship since leaving San Francisco, Ensign Astor got her first glimpse of Bellwether station.

"They must hate you to send you out here," the chief engineer chuckled as he eyed the old relay station. "Jeez, don't make them like that anymore."

"Hey, worry about your own rusty bucket of bolts," Andrea retorted, "at this point I'm amazed you don't glow in the dark."

The engineer laughed, "sometimes I do!"

Andrea rolled her eyes as she began bundling up her belongings. She only had two bags so it wasn't like she had much. She glanced up as Captain Myers's voice filtered through the intercom, "Ops to engineering. Starfleet, we've got an incoming call from the relay station, we are patching it through now. Thanks for the help but remember, you signed a waiver."

Andrea rolled her eyes as the monitor on the central workstation came to life and the face of a smiling Bolian appeared. Her heart sank. Why did he look so happy?

The jovial Bolioan was happy because meeting new people made him so. He was waiting for someone else to join him at the station. "Glorious morning, afternoon, night...whatever shift you are used to,' he said emphatically. "I wanted to check on how you are doing, Ensign, and when your transport will be arriving. I am just unable to hold back my excitement to have you here!"

Clearly this over enthusiastic Bolian had not read her file properly. Few people, unless they saw it as a way to get in the good favour of an Admiral would put her on a list of ideal candidates. "Well, good evening to you too," she replied with her best semblance of a smile. "I'm Ensign Astor. You are Lt.Commander Brott I assume?"

"That presumption is a patch of pumpkins," replied the Bolian. "Lieutenant Commander Hamish Brott, pleasure to have you here soon I hope?" he added. His eagerness was through the roof.

"We should be within transporter range in ten minutes," she informed him, wondering if the man was insane. At least she did, until a pressure valve blew in the distance, steam venting into the engineering bay. She sighed. "Lets say fifteen."

"Oh goodness!" He exclaimed. "Sounds to me like that transport is falling apart just trying to get here."

"It's been a blast," Andrea quipped as she heard shouts in Russian. "I am going to make sure they don't implode. Permission to beam aboard, Sir?"

"Whenever you are ready, I'll go, man, the transporter controls on our end," the Bolian replied gleefully.

"See you soon," she nodded as the comm link ended.

She hoped...


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