Nightmares and Spoonheads

Posted on Mon Feb 10, 2014 @ 10:25pm by

684 words; about a 3 minute read

Mission: A Whole New World, Part 2 - Durbatuluk
Location: USS Victory

He was confused. It was dark, then bright, then dark again. There were loud noises. Screams. It was hot. He didn’t understand. This wasn’t how it normally was. Why was it different?

A crashing sound. Strange voices. “Damn it, Lepre, this whole building it on fire! The roof could come down any minute! We have to go!”

“By the Prophets, Mentas! It’s just an infant! We can’t just leave it!”

“You’re really going to risk your life for one of…them?”

“It wouldn’t be a risk if you’d shut up and help me!”

More crashing. Flashes of light. A strange face appearing above. One of the voices. “There, there , little one. It’s alright now.”

Arms reached out and picked him up. The person was strange. Her face looked strange, pink and soft. This wasn’t normal. Temek Dakar screamed.

The scream died away in his dark crew quarters. He shook his head. He’d never had a dream that vivd. It had to have been from when he was an infant, when his adoptive parents found him…but how could he possibly remember that? It didn’t make sense.

“Computer,” he said groggily, “what is the time?”

“The time is 0424 hours.”

Dakar groaned. There’d be no getting back to sleep, he was sure of that much. Being awake anyway, he decided to get dressed and do a quick inspection of the security officers guarding the VIP quarters overnight.

[Approximately 20 minutes later, Deck 2 Corridor]

Temek stepped out of the turbolift and was startled to see only one guard outside the VIP cabin. There were supposed to be two there at all times. He approached the guard that was there, a Tellarite petty officer. “Mr. Goral, where is Chief Tam?”

“Calm yourself, I’m right here.” A middle aged Bajoran man emerged from an unoccupied set of quarters. He held up a steaming cup of some hot beverage. “I went for some coffee, is all.”

Temek looked at him incredulously. “And Lt. sh’Therin approved this?” Lt. sh’Therin was the security officer on duty on the bridge.

Tam Goldric rolled his eyes at his superior officer. “I didn’t feel the need to give her up-to-the-second updates.”

“Your standing orders are that there are to be two guards outside this room at all times. What made you think it was ok to step out for a drink?”

“Oh, get off it, Ensign! I was ten steps away!”

Dakar was shocked at the attitude. “I don’t care if you were two steps away, Chief; your orders were to stay here!”

“Now see here, Ensign, I’ve been in Starfleet for fourteen years, and I certainly don’t need some spoonhead telling me how to do my job!”

Behind him, Petty Officer Goral’s jaw dropped when the Chief uttered the racial slur, and it took some discipline on Temek’s part to keep his from doing the same. “Chief Tam Goldric, you are relieved of duty. Give me your sidearm and report to your quarters, where you can consider yourself confined until further notice.”

Tam glared at the Cardassian, and started to object. Dakar interrupted him. “If the next words I hear are anything but ‘Yes, sir’, you can make that the brig.”

For a terrifying second, Temek actually thought that the older man was going to strike him. His better nature seemed to win out, however, and he muttered “Yes, sir” and all but threw his phaser at the Ensign. He then spun around and stalked off to the turbolift.

Dakar took the weapon and took up the Chief’s post. He decided to just serve out the hour or so left in the shift himself. He’d have to make a report to Lieutenant Commander Bishop, of course, but he decided it didn’t call for waking his superior. He wasn’t sure what he would say, anyway. Chief Tam had a long, distinguished record, certainly with no history of this kind of insolence. What in the name of the Prophets was going on?

 

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