Stardate: 10811.1818Author: Jorran T'al
Title: SOULTREK: ARCADIA
Scene: Somewhere, out there...
Time: 2pm on a Wednesday Afternoon
***REM***
The place was quiet, the lights were off and the doors locked...No one was home.
***ENGINEERING***
The large warpcore stood in the middle, a cold cup of coffee stood on the control panel nearby. The lights were off and a faint echo of talking could be heard nearby. Only one person could be seen. He held a broom and had a name badge on his uniform. It read 'Steve'.
***C & C***
Ah, here was everyone! Captain Catrina Bell, the commanding officer of the largest space station in Starfleet sat in behind her desk, in her office. Commander Gilbert, the station's first officer had just emerged from the turbo lift...
Thhhhhhhh! Went the door.
Lt. Commander Tessa St. James was at her Ops console that stood a little in front and to the right of the Captain's office. She nodded to the XO.
The console that stood a little in front and to the left of the Captain's office was that of Security. The large Russian Chief of Security, Pioter Razmenkov, had a PADD in his hand and was busy issuing the days duties to his fellow Security officers of Ensigns Elora Cage, a no nonsense security chick with blonde hair. Allison Mulhoune, scourge of Brown Sector. And Boka, the android.
Lt. Commander Kally Calhoun was working at the science station that stood to the left of the turbo lift, in line with the Ops console with the main viewscreen in-between them.
She was deep in conversation Ensign Rekellen T'Rul, a female Romulan, complete with regulation pointy ears and sporting a hair style that looked like your mother would do to save money from not sending you to a real barber...
...In Kally's hand was a coffee mug. It had the words 'Worlds Greatest Mom' printed upon it.
To the right of the turbo lift and along the far wall stood the Engineering station. Three people stood around here at the moment. Lt. Commander Jorran T'al, Arcadia's Chief Engineer, Lieutenant (jg) Ethan Mason and Ensign Raltek Berol.
The three were pointing at a monitor with a picture of the warpcore on it and talking...Every so often Jorran T'al would pause, ever so slightly, look at his hand, then continue with his piece of technobabble.
In-between the Engineering console and Security console was Tactical. At the moment the Tactical station was empty, a small 'post-it' note could be seen to read 'Warehouse 2, Section 3'.
Thhhhh! Went the door to the Captain's office as Commander Gilbert walked in. Lt. Commander Maak, Arcadia's Klingon Chief Tactical Officer stood to attention.
"Ah, Commander, you are punctual as ever." Smiled Captain Catrina Bell as she indicated to a vacant chair in front of her.
Commander Gilbert nodded to Maak who then stood at ease. "Captain." The Android stated. "It takes precisely 2 minutes and 44 seconds to travel from my quarters to Ops. I leave my quarters at exactly 7.56 am and 17 seconds." The Android XO took the seat next to the Klingon CTO.
"Commander, it's 8am now? What happened to the remaining...59 seconds?" Pondered Catrina out loud.
"...I like to look at the daisies outside Crewman Fortuna's quarters." Gilbert replied after a short pause.
Catrina smiled. "Well, on to business." She said. "Mister Maak, how goes the new torpedo tube upgrades?"
The Klingon put down the cup of tea that he was given by the Captain when he first came into her office.
"...Errr...Well..."
PLIP!!!
One of Maak's bushy eyebrows had fallen into the tea...
"CUT!!!!" Shouted John Migliore, stepping out from behind a camera. "Goddamnit!" He mumbled as he stomped over to the three. He paused at the doors that didn't open. "Well???" He called to the stage hand.
"Hey, I'm on my lunch break." Came the reply.
John Migliore marched around the office set to see Maak fishing out the eyebrow from the cup. "Well Mark?"
"Look." Mark/Maak said. "This is not my fault...Beverly fluffed her lines and..."
"I most certainly did NOT!" Huffed Beverly, folding her arms across her red Starfleet uniform. "It's the way you waggle those eyebrows of yours."
Joe Purish took out the Gilbert contacts and placed them in their little container. "I'm working with amateurs." He mumbled.
"Hey!!!" Shouted John. "Where the hell are you going?"
"To my trailer! Call me when you got this sorted!" Joe walked off the set and headed for his trailer. "I was on Broadway you know! I played Hamlet!" Was his last remark.
"Hey? Where'd Joey go?" Came the British accent.
"None of your business!" Yelled John.
"Hey, just asking, Bub."
"Oh! And while you're here." Continued Migliore. "Stop glancing down to your hand...We can see it on camera!"
"Hey! You know how difficult it is to say that technobabble crap?"
"And have you been working on your accent? I think not! Jorran isn't English, Paul."
"Mutter, mumble, lousy uppity Americans, mumble..."
"What was that?"
"I said." Paul/Jorran replied. "That I think Gilbert had the right idea! I'm off too. To a pub that serves real ENGLISH beer...Not your pasty watery American piddle!" And with that the Brit stormed off in the same direction as Joe had.
"I've one word for you 'bub' and that's Greencard!" John Migliore the director shouted after him.
"That's TWO words, moron!" He returned.
"That's it!!! I'm moving you to our cheesy early morning soap, 'DS23 of Our Lives'!"
The last sight before Paul turned the corner was him giving the director the finger.
"What is it with you people??? Just say ya lines and don't look directly at the camera, is it that hard???" John Migliore puffed.