Detour

Posted on Thu Sep 17, 2015 @ 11:47am by Civilian Sigrún Aronsdottir

938 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: Fallout
Location: MV Starlight Innovator, at Ivor Prime
Timeline: MD 04 - 0400

[ON]

"Ship's master's log, stardate six-nine-six-five-one point two." Sigrún Aronsdottir paused and waited for the handheld tablet in her hands to respond. It was supposed to start recording as soon as she spoke to it. This one, however, wasn't doing anything. She tried again. "Ship's master's log, stardate six-nine-six-five-one point two?" The interactive screen remained dark. She sighed. "Ertu að djóka?"

Iblik, her Benzite navigator and first mate, climbed the short ladder to the bridge. He was holding two hot mugs in his hands. "Maybe if you ask it please," he teased, handing her one of the mugs. He continued to his own station where he sat down.

"This thing's been nothing but trouble the whole trip," Sigrún groused. She was tempted to throw the device across the tiny bridge. Nothing would please her more than to watch it shatter. She relented, however, and set it down on her armrest. "Thank you for the tea, by the way," she said, bringing the cup up to her lips.

"It's not tea, and you're welcome," Iblik replied. He typed some one-handed commands into his station to review the next leg of their flight plan.

Sigrún stopped short of letting the beverage pass her lips. "It's not? What is it?" She eyed it suspiciously.

"I forget what it's called but the locals love it. They grow the leaves here."

"Indigenous, eh?" She tasted it, then shrugged to herself. It wasn't bad. As she set the cup down she noticed that the tablet was now on and recording. Rolling her eyes she picked it up. "Ship's master's log, stardate six-nine-six-five-one point two. We have arrived at Ivor Prime. We are offloading our cargo of pre-fabricated buildings, construction tools, and two industrial replicators for use by the colonists." She paused and turned to Iblik. "Have the boys downstairs started offloading yet?"

"They're already halfway done," Iblik responded without looking up. The crew was itching to get this job finished so they could move on to DS5 and enjoy all the shore leave delights therein. It was a great motivator.

"Good." She spoke into the recorder again. "I estimate we will be done in a few more hours. Once finished we will proceed to our new homeport at Deep Space Five. I'm looking forward to beginning our contract with Starfleet as the station's logistic support vessel." What she really meant was that she was looking forward to seeing her old friends Cade and Amia again. But this was the ship's log, not her personal one, for which she used a much better device.

A gentle chime emanated from the communications station. It indicated an incoming transmission. Iblik stood to see what it was about.

Meanwhile Sigrún continued her log. "Ship and crew have performed well with only a few minor engine difficulties. I'm also hoping that we will be able to bring new hires aboard to fill empty positions. Most importantly we are in need of a chief cook. We have endured severe hardships having to eat the meals prepared by the first mate." She grinned playfully at Iblik but he wasn't paying attention. He was reading the incoming message with a bewildered frown.

"Sigrún, look at this," he said.

Sigrún's smile remained in place as she stood and went to the comms station. "What is it?" Iblik stepped aside and allowed her to read the text on the screen for herself. As she did so her smile melted into a frown identical to his. "Is this a joke?"

"That was my first thought, but it does have a legitimate security prefix code," Iblik replied.

Sigrún read it again to make sure she was reading it right. This time aloud. "To Ship's Master, MV Starlight Innovator. From Admiral Thani zh'Dastal, Starfleet Supply and Logistics Division. Retain payload destined for Ivor Prime colony. Proceed at best speed to Deep Space Five. Payload is being re-routed to support Pangaea operations. Maintain radio silence except to send or respond to distress calls. Admiral zh'Dastal sends." She traded a look with Iblik. "What?"

"Are we taking orders from Starfleet Command already?" the first mate asked. "Our contract doesn't begin until we reach DS5, correct?"

All that Sigrún had in response to that was a shrug. "I would hail this Admiral and ask but apparently we're under radio silence now. Do I dare break it? Are we on some spy mission? We're a cargo ship! And what is Pangaea?"

Now it was Iblik's turn to shrug. "What do you want to do?"

Sigrún heaved a sigh and thought about it for an extra moment. This was truly a step into odd territory. "You're sure that's a legitimate message?"

A nod. "We both did our time in the fleet. You know as well as I do what an official dispatch with a priority security code looks like."

"Could it be faked?"

"It could, I suppose, but why?"

Sigrún had to concede that point. Neither their ship nor their cargo were important enough for pranks or subterfuge. Well, apparently some Admiral thinks we're really important today. That's something. "This is so strange."

"So...what then?"

What else? "Get below. Tell the load master to bring it all back. As soon as he does we're shoving off."

"Aye." Moving quickly Iblik went to do as told.

Meanwhile Sigrún sat in front of a computer and queried the word "Pangaea." The first thing that came up was a dispatch from the Federation News Network. That's when she knew.

[OFF]

Sigrún Aronsdottir
Captain, Starlight Innovator
(NPC Bert)

 

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