Praying for the End of Time

Posted on Wed Feb 8th, 2017 @ 6:49am by

Mission: Another Day in Paradise
Location: Hopper - Aft Cargo Bay
Timeline: Several hours after "On the Run"

Bran approached the makeshift security area in the Aft Cargo Bay noting that the area was quiet but with a buzz. Security wasn’t the only department to set up operations there, with other departments quartering out the main cargo hold. But, finally, after several hours and putting down several more determined agitants, things were calming down and getting back to a Starfleet normal. Those personnel aboard the Hopper were reporting to their departments and doing what could be done.

Extras from Engineering and Ops were actually using what they could to help make up makeshift ‘quarters’ in the open areas. It was mostly just a couple walls and a curtain with two crude beds apiece, but it did help create the semblance of privacy. Science officers were really unnecessary, especially since there were no labs, no stellar cartography and only the most rudimentary of sensors were working. Instead they were trying to comb through the onboard computers to determine how much of the data they had in the Delta Quadrant remained in the ship’s computer banks.

Security and the Marines were still patrolling the ship. Now that the personnel were settling down, however, it was getting a bit tedious. There were no indications of Borg pursuit or impending attacks, but Bran was unwilling to let up until he was sure the danger was past them. To that end, he passed by a few security officers who sat at a makeshift desk and filling out their reports on PaDDs. He exchanged a few words with the groups, making sure to offer his thanks to the Marines sitting with security for their help.

His destination, however was the back wall where Aide sat crosslegged on the floor between two banks of storage lockers. Once Bran reached him put his back to the wall and slid until he was sitting. Meetok scrabbled to get out of his harness the moment Bran was seated. As soon as the puppy was free, Bran snapped the lead to his harness and wound the handle end around his ankle so Meetok could run as much as he wanted…but only as far as the lead would carry him.

A plastic rectangular bag was dropped into his lap. Bran picked it up and looked over at Aide. “Beef Chili Mac?” he asked, the disappointment evident in his voice. He let the packet drop back into his lap, but his stomach was reminding him of his level of activity and that he’d foregone food and rest for quite a while.

“Either that or the stroganoff,” Aide said with a smile. The Betazoid’s dark eyes glanced over Bran and his smile faltered somewhat. “But I figured this was preferable. Sorry, I didn’t realize Ops began distributing meals until it was almost too late.”

“It’s okay,” Bran said as he ripped the packet open and pulled out the entrée pack and heater and began making his ‘lunch’. He didn’t mind the emergency rations. While it didn’t seem like a lot of food, the calorie count was very high – and they were heavy on the carbs and protein for energy. It was just that the Beef Chili Mac was one of his least favorite of the meals. Until he started working with the dog during therapy, he never knew that it also looked like packs of dog food. Of course he did know it now. He set the entrée to the side to allow it to sufficiently heat while he accepted the thermos from Aide.

“Caf?” he asked, almost excited.

“Brewed it myself,” Aide said, “so it should meet your expectations.”

“You’re a godsend,” Bran said eagerly turning the cap into a cup and pouring out a measure of the dark liquid, approving of the steam that came out of the thermos. He sighed after he guzzled down the first cupful and poured a second.

“Might want to go easy on that,” Aide said, “not sure when I’m going to get to replicate more. With navigation controls locked out, we’re not sure if we can pass by a sufficient hydrogen supply.”

“I guess that’s the reason for the emergency rations?” Bran asked.

“Yep. They’re satisfying, calorie wise, and designed to require less replicator resources when we need to start replicating them. Which should be by lunch tomorrow. This ship is over capacity as far as its emergency supplies are concerned.”

“Yeah,” Bran said pulling the puppy into his lap, Meetok sniffing around the still heating entrée pack. Bran looked through the rest of the packet to see if there was something he could give the dog to help hold him over. He knew he’d have to share some of his rations with Meetok. But as he was searching, Aide pushed over a small measure of the same entrée that Bran had. Meetok squirmed out of Bran’s grasp and went right for the food. Bran put his arm around Aide’s shoulders and pulled him toward him. It was a quick, gentle kiss he planted on Aide’s temple but, as always, for Bran he wanted more. He never thought he was a person for whom addiction was a problem, but that was before he met Aide during boot. “Thank you,” he whispered, always grateful when Aide wasn’t complaining about the puppy.

And odd behavior considering Aide is the one that got the puppy for him. After Bran was released from the hospital and had to give up the young dog he was working with there, helping to train therapy dogs for people that needed them. It was having the dog to care for that finally got through to an extremely obstinate patient. A patient that refused to even attempt to work with the staff at the behavioral health wing and still tried to find ways to finish the job he screwed up when he missed with the first shot.

“You need to find a place to keep him, you can’t keep carrying him around like that. It’s undignified and those who aren’t afraid you’re going to stun them as soon as you see them aren’t taking you seriously.”

Bran sighed but didn’t say anything. He really didn’t want to have an argument at this point. He pulled out the pack of something that was called cheese but Bran was sure made by people who’d only seen pictures of the stuff. Nevertheless, he began spreading it on bland, tasteless crackers. He’d wash down each bite with some of the caf.

“Any updates?” Aide asked.

“No,” Bran answered, watching people walking by and going about their business. “People have been trying but whatever the ‘Sanctuary Protocol’ is deep into the systems. It’s also locked out access to the computer core memory and databases to prevent it from being manually deleted or reset. Without that, we’re still flying blindly to some unknown area. And nobody has a clue why.”

“What about the spooks?”

Bran shrugged. “They kept quiet for a while, as if trying to make people think they weren’t as out of the loop as everyone else. But eventually even they’ve admitted they don’t know what’s going on. A couple pilots tried to start up the shuttle we have onboard, but before they could determine if the hanger doors would open, the shuttle went into Sanctuary Protocol as well. Fortunately, they could shut that down before it left a large hole in the ship flying out. We’re stuck, good and stuck.”

“I don’t like it,” Aide said, “but at least we survived the Borg attack.” The worry that they wouldn’t was evident in the single sentence but as if to underscore the point, Aide laid his head on Bran’s shoulder, moving closer to him.

“Neither do I,” Bran said, scanning the crowd. He may be much more willing to be public with his relationship with the Betazoid security officer – even to the point where he was granted a relationship waiver that was valid until a CO filed a complaint that somehow their relationship comprised command structure of Bran’s team or the department he ran.

Or would have ran. “I don’t think we have a ship assignment anymore. Or, I’m thinking from the data I’ve seen collected that the ship we were assigned has been destroyed. Right now, I only know of two ships that survived the invasion.”

Bran gave the last half of a cracker to Meetok and leaned into Aide while he watched the Husky puppy try to clear the cheese sticking on the roof of his mouth. After several minutes, where Bran felt Aide sleeping through their imzadi link, he pulled his entrée out and used his off hand to slowly and carefully eat his share, his dominant arm caught by his sleeping fiancé and Bran didn’t want to disturb him. They could all use some rest even if only because of the situation they found themselves.

Meetok didn’t gobble the portion Bran fed him as quickly but he did still eat it quickly, his body making circles around the makeshift bowl Bran served the food in, his tiny but already beginning to fuzz hair wagging excitedly. After Meetok licked the bowl clean and then tried to chew through it to get the last bit of taste, Bran realized he was going to have to find some water for the dog before too much longer. And some for himself, but it was more important for Meetok. He was still young and hyperactive, he needed hydration more than Bran did at this point.

Fresh water was going to be as much a problem as food would be soon. If they didn’t reach their destination or gain control over the ship again. From what Nichols said, this ship was mothballed, he wasn’t sure how much emergency supplies they really had. The rations would keep for years, but not water. If it went bad they were in some serious trouble once the hydrogen tanks were depleted and the replicators couldn’t function any longer.

If they were on a planet or habitable moon, stranded as they were, Bran would find it much more adventurous and fun – but they weren’t. On a planet they could forage for edibles, fresh water, make shelters and do what they had to do to survive. On a craft like this, their supplies were extremely limited and once it was used up, so were they.

He leaned against the wall, trying not to move so as not to jostle Aide and wake him prematurely. He figured he could skip the next scheduled patrol and let Aide nap. His decision was cemented when Meetok slipped between him and Aide, curled up and was asleep in moments. Bran adjusted his rifle across his lap and was about to nod off himself when his commbadge chirped.

“Chief Bran?” the voice said, “Could you come to the Main Hanger, we need you.”

Bran sighed as he shifted slowly. Aide woke instantly, having years of practice at coming awake instantly. A talent as impressive as that Marines and Security learned to sleep anywhere. “On my way,” he said, giving Aide another quick kiss on the top of his head and unwound the lead from his ankle.

Aide mumbled something, then leaned into the corner where he sat and closed his eyes again, only remaining awake long enough to grab Meetok’s lead from Bran as the Trill stood and began making his way to the main hanger.