Stardate 68706.7

Posted on 16 Sep 2018 @ 12:32pm by Lieutenant JG Matthew Plumeri

1,914 words; about a 10 minute read

[ON:]
[Two Days Ago]
[Terminal Station Olanche, Rigel II, 1530 hours]

Matthew had his duffle bag and trumpet case in hand when he saddled up close to the bar in the large atrium area here at Olanche terminal station. There were so many people here. Going and coming, working and waiting. It was a bot overwhelming and the relative calm of the bar was a welcome respite. He'd been traveling almost ninety-hours on a transport. He set his entire life’s personal belongings under the bar stool and sat down. The two other bar patrons each pulled away from his arrival as he took his seat. The cold marble touch of the bar top seemed to be as cold as the reception he got. After a moment, the bar tender arrived. She was Rigellian, as one might expect to see on Rigel II, was in her mid-forties and looked like she had seen all types in this place.

“What can I get you Lieutenant?” she said with authority. Matt answered in his native Fontalan, “Cosa c'è di buono qui?”

“What’s that?” she answered and leaned forward. Plumeri forgot that not everybody had a UT (Universal Translator) available to them. He looked up at her and realized his mistake. When he spoke, his Fontalan accent was thick. And he hated that. He always felt that it made him sound stupid. He tried to work on it and, of course, he was much, much better now with Federation Standard. Even so, it was obvious to anyone without a UT that he was not Human. His R’s and his vowels were pronounced. He said, “What’s good here? To drink?”

The bar was noisy and at first, he didn’t think she understood him. The look she gave him. As if he had just asked for magic beans. His eyes averted, and he felt that frustration at his damn accent. “Booze honey. That’s what’s good here. You want a beer? All you guys like beer here” she said with practiced ease. Her face had mild annoyance on it, but her voice wasn’t annoyed at all.

“Yeah. OOookay. Birra!” he answered back. He made the "ok" sign with his fingers. She nodded, laughed, not at him, winked and said, “Be right back.” Plumeri figured that if there was only one choice ‘beer’ then it couldn’t be all that bad. He looked to his left, Rigellian maintenance crewman was hitting on a girl too young for him. Turning to the right, a security officer and his partner were viewing the holonet feed. Matthew looked up at the screen and listened.

”…we go live to Federation News Now reporter, Mirak Bai for this on scene report.”

On the screen were people running through the streets behind the reporter. There was a large building with ornate columns and smoke was pouring out the upper windows of the four-storied structure. Fire licked the columns and a door burst open and a man, on fire, ran out the door and into the street. Four Federation security personnel followed him and rolled him on the ground to put out the flames. Matt’s eyes grew wide, he knew that place. Didn’t he? He listened more intently, ”The situation here at the Federation Embassy has rapidly deteriorated. Moments ago, a large crowd that marched from the steps of the Senate made there way here to the Federation Embassy. The security forces were overwhelmed within minutes and the crowd stormed the gates. They broke through the barriers and made it into the Embassy itself. As you can see, fires have been started and we have heard phaser fire…” .

The bartender arrived and placed the amber, golden beer in front of Matthew. She looked up at what was on the network feed and reached to change the feed to something else, “Oh, I don’t want to see that!” she said.

“WAIT! Don’t change the feed!” Matthew said as he listened and watched. Three people gave him a look, but he didn’t care.

The report continued, ”…unbelievable that this could happen on what has been, until recent months, an idyllic and tranquil place and people. We need to EVAC as well, the Federation Ambassador, we have not seen nor heard from any of the embassy staff. We hope that they are safe and that everyone got out OK. We’re being told by the security forces that we must leave. Back to you on Earth.”

The image now was of the main reporting anchor desk, “You’re looking at live images coming to us from the Federation Protectorate, a provisional world, Fontalis. You may remember that over recent months, the provisional status of this planet has been put on hold as the government of the Sovereign squares off against the Senate body over the requirements to become a member of the United Federation of Planets. The monarch agreeing to lay aside the monarchy and move from a long standing, very old form of government to a representative form of government that is aligned with UFP practices. That process appears to have finally broken down and, if what we’re seeing and hearing, the Federation embassy staff, the Ambassador Michelson, the ship and crew from the USS Clarke have been ordered to leave the area of Fontalis and the are escaping with their lives. More on this breaking news as the story develops.”

Matt was nearly standing out of the seat. The bartender left the feed alone and Matthew sat back onto the bar stool. Leaving the beer untouched, leaving a Federation credit to pay for it, he gathered his bag and trumpet case and left the bar. Finding a COMM station, he placed an urgent call to his sister and his parents. His home world being, the very same place that was tearing itself apart now, Fontalis.


[The Present]
[Avondale Shipyards]
[Gangway 0035A]

“Lieutenant JG Matthew Plumeri, Science Officer, Personal Log, stardate 68706.7. It’s been a whole day now since I last spoke with people at home. My sister, my parents, friends I grew up with. They’re all scared. The Federation got the boot and has left my planet. What has happened? Are they all nuts?! If I had work to do, then I’d focus on that. But, I don’t. I’m waiting for my ship to open the airlock and let me and about forty others get on board and get checked in. My mom, my dad, they don’t understand that I can’t just pick up and come home. That don’t understand why I just can’t get my ship to head straight over there and settle this whole thing out. It stresses me out to hear them worried.

Oh! Let’s talk about something like good news. I've got an interview today with, what I hope will be, my new ship. A new tour of duty aboard the Galileo. I meet the CSO, the XO and I guess even the CO if I can like....'wow' them. The best thing I got going for me are the letters of recommendation and my curriculum vitae. I've worked hard but I've also been lucky. Maybe, if I’m lucky, they'll need a guy with ancient history perspectives? It's a longshot. OK, if I bomb out then I've only lost a week and a half of time. But maybe, you know? Maybe I'll get a spot on this crew. Maybe I’ll get my own quarters if there is enough room. I don’t mind roommates. It’s someone to talk to. And it keeps me from getting too lonely you know? I hope this assignment lasts longer. I’m tired of making friends and starting to get connections and then I have to rip them all away and transfer. It’s hard enough to make and keep friends in the service. I’m getting to do what I love though. Back on a starship. I mean, hopefully. Out there among the stars man...that's living. Everyday is new out here. Really making exploration and discovery a part of what I do. I am excited about this new adventure. About what I’ll see and who we will meet. I’ve never explored this part of the galaxy before, so it will be all new to me. I have so many questions. Like, what will the CO be like? What will the CSO be like? I’ve heard that the crew of the ship had a rough time before this. They lost the ship. Some are saying that it is the CO’s fault. Some are saying it was the crew – that they didn’t follow orders. That’s all horseshit. Asinine. Starfleet would not be handing the keys over to a Captain and a crew that wrecked their ride and then disobeyed orders. Besides, they take out a boatload of insurance on these ships.

I can’t wait to get on board and get started you know? Tired of living out of a duffle bag and eating replicated food from the public replicators. I want my own bed. I need a shower and the gym. Then, I want to check up on the DTI’s latest journals. I want to meet my new colleagues. I heard this boat has a couple of PhD’s for their planetary division. And a few more of the names I recognize from the manifest have written some kick ass articles for Journal of Galactic Mechanics. The Planetary Society is represented here. Heck, if I play my cards right they might even extend an invitation to become a member. That's like...instant credibility there. I mean among geeks. Like me." (sighs)
"I hope I can play my trumpet somewhere and not always on the holodeck. I don’t even know what class of ship the Galileo will be. And it will be so nice to just use the UT and not have to putz around with my Standard.

Two security guards passing me by. Giving me the look. I wave at them. Cops. I wonder if I’m on some kind of ‘list’ you know? When I got here a week ago I went to the Barros Inn here on Rigel II. I saw the big Ratana tree that everyone is always talking about. It’s big alright. Older than the Barros Inn itself. Thick, huge trunk. Couldn't put my arms around it. Bigger than that. Had a drink or two and just kind of hung out. Got a pole dance from a cutie pie. The place is wild alright. They have a mobile clinic – I am not shitting you – a mobile clinic right outside the front door of the place to handle all of the medical emergencies. You fly out the front door, on your ass, land in a biobed, get patched up well enough to spend the night in jail. And the furniture takes a beating there. Loud music, pretty girls, pretty everything there. All kinds. Never seen so many kinds of people all mixing it up. Definitely coming back the Barros Inn again when we next port in here. Maybe by then I’ll have some friends to go with?

Computer, end and save personal log.”

[OFF:]
Lieutenant JG Matthew Plumeri
Science Officer – Historian
USS Galileo – NCC 80010

RSS Feed