Unceremoniously Deposited

Posted on Sat Feb 25th, 2023 @ 6:06pm by Lieutenant Commander Athon Scordato

Mission: 02-The Line Widens
Location: SS Huenteao
Timeline: within an hour of "A New Chapter"

Scordato arrived at the Huenteao’s small personnel transporter alcove with his travel bag hitched over his shoulder and a data padd in his hand. Although he’d come aboard with three other passengers, they’d been dropped off at various points en route. That left him the only one transferring to the station.

From her position at the transporter control station, the Huenteao’s first mate looked over to see Scordato approaching. She waved. “All set here, commander,” she said, tilting her head toward the alcove, “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Scordato said, mostly to himself.

“Station should be sending over transporter codes any moment,” the Denobulan told him, “If you’ll be so kind as to step into my parlor, this’ll just take a sec.”

Scordato nodded. Hitching his bag up a little higher on his shoulder, he stepped forward and crossed the short distance to the transporter pad. The Huenteao might not have officially been his ship to serve, but he realized that he still felt…something…about saying good bye to it. For these last few weeks, at least, it had been a sort of home.

Pushing the thoughts aside, Scordato took his place at the center of the pad. He turned so that he was facing outward and watched as the first mate made final adjustments.

“Alright,” she said, looking up at him again, “Here we go…”

And with that, the familiar silver blue of the transporter effect washed over Scordato. It soon faded away as quickly as it had come, revealing an older, slightly larger pad that he presumed meant he had arrived safely at Station K-17. Across from him, the gold-uniformed Starfleet technician all but confirmed it.

“Lieutenant Commander Athon Scordato,” Scordato announced in the time-honored tradition, “Requesting permission to come aboard.”

“Granted,” the technician replied somewhat unenthusiastically before busying himself with something on his console.

The technician’s lack of enthusiasm did not escape Scordato’s notice, nor did he fail to notice the absence of anyone else waiting to greet him. Granted, he hadn’t necessarily expected a huge welcoming party, or even the station commander to meet him. But protocol dictated that bare minimum there should have been someone to have at least officially acknowledged his arrival. Slightly confused, Scordato’s gaze returned to the technician opposite.

“Where’s the deck officer,” he asked.

At first, there was no response. It seemed as if the technician hadn’t even heard him. But then, after a brief moment, he thought that he heard the technician mutter something incoherently.

“I’m sorry, what was that,” Scordato asked.

“Beats me,” the technician said, lifting up his head and speaking a little more clearly.

Strange, Scordato thought to himself. This technician was a lot more…relaxed…than what he’d experience on his previous assignments. Then again, the briefing had mentioned something about a situation with the Tzenkethi. Perhaps that was what was occupying most of the crew’s attention and time.

“Alright,” he said, “Where can I find the captain?”

Again, the technician, his head buried in whatever was on his display, muttered something Scordato could not make out.

“Petty officer…”

“No idea…sir.”

That definitely came as a surprise. While he was not normally one to push for pomp and circumstance, he did try to afford others a basic level of respect (and he expected the same in return). Another moment passed in silence as Scordato stood there, trying to figure out what to do next. He was about to say something more when the technician suddenly raised his head, looked Scordato straight in the eye, and said, “If you could step down, sir, I need to get started on the cargo transfer.”

“Right…” Scordato said. Without so much as another word, he stepped down from the pad, gave one last look at the technician, then proceeded out the door.