Lines, Laments, and Late Arrivals
Posted on Sat Dec 14th, 2024 @ 12:19am by Chief Petty Officer Aryx Thorne
Edited on on Mon Dec 16th, 2024 @ 11:40pm
732 words; about a 4 minute read
Mission:
Lost Out Here in the Stars
Location: Starbase 129
Timeline: MD001 - 0800-0900
Aryx Thorne stepped off the passenger transport shuttle and into the bustling chaos of Starbase 129, carrying his duffel bag behind him like a ball and chain. The last leg of his journey had been as pleasant as an engine failure mid-warp: cramped seating, recycled air that smelled vaguely of burnt toast, and a crying toddler two rows back who’d clearly missed nap time. Now, the sight of the security checkpoint—a snaking line of frustrated travelers that seemed to stretch into the next quadrant—was the final insult.
He groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Of course. Why make things easy when the universe can make them unbearable?”
The line moved forward in agonizing increments, punctuated by the occasional beep of scanners and gruff commands from Starfleet security officers. Aryx shifted his weight from one foot to the other, muttering under his breath as a Ferengi traveler at the front of the line argued with the guard.
After five minutes, his patience hit its limit. Spotting a young ensign wearing Starfleet gold standing near the checkpoint, Aryx stepped out of line and made a jog for him.
“Hey, officer,” Aryx called out, a grin plastered on his face that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Do you think you could do me a favor? I’ve had a long trip, I’m running on fumes, and this line is moving slower than a Tellarite diplomat in a debate. Any chance you could bump me to the front?”
The ensign raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, Chief. Everyone has to wait their turn.”
“Come on,” Aryx pressed, leaning in slightly. “It’s not like I’m asking for a personal escort to my ship. Just skip a few steps so I can get on with my day. You’d be saving lives—well, mine, at least.”
The ensign crossed his arms, his expression unchanged. “Back in line, Chief.”
Aryx sighed dramatically, throwing up his hands. “Fine, fine. But just so you know, this is why nobody invites security to parties. Too much rule-following, not enough fun.”
The ensign didn’t bite, and Aryx trudged back to his spot in line, grumbling.
Ten minutes passed, the line crept forward, and Aryx’s attention wandered. He spotted a young girl clinging to her mother’s hand a few spots ahead. The girl looked exhausted, her wide eyes darting nervously around the bustling crowd. Aryx softened a pinch. He crouched slightly and caught her eye.
“Hey, kid,” he said, pitching his voice just loud enough for her to hear. “You doing okay in this madhouse?”
The girl blinked at him, clutching her mother’s sleeve tighter. “It’s loud,” she said softly.
Aryx nodded sagely. “Loud, crowded, and boring. Triple threat. But you know what helps?”
She tilted her head, curious.
“Imagine everyone in line is wearing socks on their heads instead of shoes on their feet.”
The girl giggled, her nervousness fading just a little. Her mother glanced back at Aryx with a grateful smile, and he winked. “Works every time.”
By the time Aryx reached the front of the line, his annoyance had settled into a simmering mix of exhaustion and resignation. The Bolian security officer at the scanner looked up as he handed over his Starfleet credentials.
“Chief Petty Officer Aryx Thorne,” the Bolian said, scanning the ID chip. His gaze flicked to Aryx’s face, taking in the tired eyes and faint smirk. “You’re assigned to the USS William Dawes, correct?”
“That’s me,” Aryx replied. “Engineer, miracle worker, and occasional pain in the rear. All rolled into one convenient package.”
The Bolian’s expression didn’t change. “Welcome to Starbase 129. Next!”
Aryx grabbed his duffel and stepped through the checkpoint, rolling his shoulders to work out the stiffness. The starbase’s promenade stretched out before him, alive with vendors hawking goods, Starfleet officers hurrying to their assignments, and civilians milling about. He was already late and had no time to haggle, argue, or flirt his way for a good deal.
As he walked, Aryx muttered to himself, his tone dry but tinged with determination. “Alright, Dawes. Let’s see what kind of mess you’ve got waiting for me.”
And with that, Aryx Thorne disappeared into the thrumming heart of the starbase.
Chief Petty Officer Aryx Thorne
Engineer
USS William Dawes
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