Research Installation Theta

The obnoxious mouthed middle aged male officer straddled his chair, audibly chewing gum; every word in his thick southern American accent was met with a wailing of arms pointing in every direction. Each of those words an order or some form of cynical retort at a reply. A passer-by could quickly get the impression the man cared too much about his job or that he saw himself god, running the universe from his console. At the long wall of the room where the man sat was a large viewer screen; a map of the entire planets system of moons. A federation logo moved near one of the ships moons, above the logo read, the USS Mackay. The obnoxious man’s attention seemed focused at the logo on the screen, one hand pointed while the other flailed. As the logo drew closer the largest federation icon, and the one that all other objects on the map seemed to orbit about, the man began to raise himself from his seat, still pointing.

“Right, open a channel with the Mackay,” he barked.

“We have an open channel, putting the Chief on screen Sir,” A female officer replied.

“Chief, good to see you. ETA on the Mackay’s mission complete.” The obnoxious man said walking toward the viewer screen.

“Commander,” Nodded a fat man in a yellow uniform, “We done but I do want to visit the moon currently on the far side of the planet, there’s no team there but I’d like to download info from a surface drone we have there. Shouldn’t take us too much longer to do that.”

“I dunno Chief,” Said the obnoxious man identified as Commander as he leant against a seat, much to the displeasure of the officer using the chair.

“Commander Rapden, I swear sometimes you think you’re god. The Captain mentioned it at yesterdays staff meeting. It’s been a week since we last checked up on it, just cause it isn’t a primary research doesn’t make it any less important.” The fat man in the viewer commented disrespecfully.

“Fine Chief,” The Commander replied walking back to his chair, “but remember that you have Engineering duty in the Gamma Shift and we…”

“…and we what Commander?” The ‘Chief’ interrupted, “Senior Chief Petty Officer Gregory Magnorama did not make Senior Chief Petty Officer by been a poor Engineer. Stand by the receive the Mackay, we can catch the moon on next orbit in general flyby. Mackay out.”

“Arrogant prick,” the Commander muttered under his breath straddling his seat once more.

He clapped loudly, “Right you heard him, stand by to receive the Mackay. Have teams to docking ring one, ect ect. You all know the drill people.”

At this time a young officer approached the Commander with a padd in her hand, “Sir, for your signature.”

“Ahh good, I was wondering when you’d show up. I want you to go contact the Captain, need to talk to him about this wild child Chief. Damn ignorant fool he is.” The Commander said still chewing his gum repulsively.

“Yes sir, right away sir.” The young officer said trying to withhold the sick feeling at the Commanders chewing. She placed the Padds down on the side console nearest to the seat and walked away briskly.

Life often leads us down the lonely road. With no care or concern for our own desires or wants or needs. Other times it is our actions that lead us to the lonely road and our sense of adventure that pushes us down it. I find the thing about the lonely road isn’t so much that you no one beside you, but that it is such a steep decline that often you don’t see a way back out. You just keep falling, falling falling, falling; down, down, down, down. No one ever sees the exit off the lonely road, they just keep their eyes fixed on the endless miles ahead. But I guess that’s just the way things work.

“End log entry.”

Martin lay across the lounge in his quarters overlooking the 3rd moon of Theta Antares VI, fate had left him to ponder himself and what he had made of himself and desire conflicted him to become the opposite. Of course to the unsespecting eye he could be seen as a Star Fleet Captain, a research director, a base commander, a man of science and one who looked to the future for a better tomorrow. It was a hard deception to live and one that conflicted his soul. A conflict that could have no resolution, no beginning point to say ‘that was it’ or ‘it started there’.

The often lonely nights were to blame for his mind wandering, R.I.T. was a quite base at the best of times. It was easy to keep to yourself and no-one would notice until you made a sound. It was home to too many minds all caught up in their own world of thinking to see past their work. The peripheral, like the wandering eye were an ironic neglection from the occupants who cased their life to looking around and considering the alternative to make a solution; not that Martin could complain. In a year not one person had noticed his private doings, his non-fleet related dealings; thankfully.

Letting out a sigh, martin got out of his slump and push past the mess on the floor of his quarters toward his replicator, “Coffee, white with vanilla extract.” With that a cup matirialized on the replicator, it was warm and the vanilla extract smell filled the room quickly, it was Martin’s favorite drink and often called his ‘thinking drink’; this was because of a typical pace up and down his quarters. But this was not today, Martin just made his way back to his lounge and conceded to himself, “There probably is a way out, but I in it too far and any step backwards would just probably set off an alarm. Atleast I have you,” looking at his cup, “you always seem to replicate there to comfort me yet you never tell me that talking to an inanimate object is the first sign of a delusional mind.”