A warp shuttle ... ! Very small, downright tiny, true, but it is slowly dawning on you that this is your first taste of your boyhood dream of a starship command. You shake your head in wonder as you leave the cockpit, then noticed that this particular shuttle has been specially outfitted with a general sciences station held distinct from the cockpit or the passenger section. You decide to investigate.
Two women are examining a panel with great interest. You do a double take. T'Van, here on this shuttle? Then you realize that this Vulcan woman, while having the same bob cut, is shorter -- and markedly curvier. However, she turns to you with much the same expression of aloof placidity.
"Greetings, Lieutenant, I am Science Officer T'Psov," she introduced herself. "I come here as what your culture might call an apprentice to Chief Science Officer T'Van."
"I think I approve of your culture, Mr. T'Psov." And the rest of you, you leave unsaid. "What's going on?"
"We're analyzing what appears to be a sentient signal radiating from the Horus system. We have not treated it as a distress signal or such because it is so unusual and complex that it appears to be trying to achieve some function."
"A function?"
"Sir," T'Psov presses, "in my opinion this signal closely resembles research in extremely radical approaches to terraforming, where a signal goes out and near-instantly alters the life-bearing matrix of an entire planet. It has been traveling at just under the speed for years now, so that not only Seanix Prime but we ourselves are already deep within its influence."
"Any notable effects? Any dangers?"
"None yet," assures the other voice. "But we plan to keep monitoring."
You can't help but feel quite lucky indeed. The other officer is none other than the communications officer with the blonde ponytail and extra-lush figure.
"Communications Officer Svoboda," she greets you with an accent you associate with the Eastern European region of Earth. "Very pleased to meet you, sir."
You don't doubt it, as Svoboda is smoldering at you quite fiercely. You could swear her nipples are ever so subtly poking out against her red uniform, and her one hand is hitching her skirt extra high -- so high, you suspect she's actually flashing you, but you haven't the nerve to check.
"I should have Lt. Quinn back here," you think aloud. "Carry on."
You turn, and are a little relieved to see no less than your old friend Sonny Bains.
"Welcome aboard, Lieutenant."
"You? Here?" you marvel.
He thumps his red shirt. "You know me," he says, pitching his voice very low and soft. "Good old security. Always in it for the danger. Always out to beat the odds ... and speaking of odds ... " He draws his face close. " ... I have no idea how Starfleet got these women, let alone this mission."
"Quinn and T'Psov and Svoboda, yes, I've seen," you murmur back.
"I'm not even talking about them. We have a medic, a biologist, and an anthropologist back there -- and they make Svoboda look like a nun in a habit. But you'll see for yourself. It's going to be a long seventeen hours."
You resume normal tones. "Carry on, Bains."
Sonny shrugs and leaves you go. You wonder: to check the flight plan with Quinn and send her back, or to meet the remaining three? |