Lieutenant Junior Grade Ben Garcia - Adrenaline Blues

[Ben Garcia]

((Bridge - Deck 1 - USS Thor – Federation Space, circa 11 minutes from Duronis II/Sandbar.))

 

Post-battle navigation; a finger tapping trial of patience. For Ben, it lacked the urgency – the thrill – of pacing a ship through battle torn space. There was something redundant about it. Almost like counting out time.

 

Ben rolled his shoulders and tensed his blades. His body ached for another taste of adrenaline. Ben arched his back and shifted, settling into his chair.

 

He was restless.

 

Dropping out of the slip stream, the Thor felt tired and sluggish under Ben’s fingertips as she coasted along in warp.

 

The Sandbar was a little more than 9 or 10 minutes away, and Ben’s attention needed yanking back to rein. This was his blind spot – the quiet crawl home. Every Helmsman had a blind spot, and every Helmsman had a strategy to mitigate it.

 

The Helm chirped in the affirmative: Ben had keyed in his post-battle navigation profile. Part auto-pilot, part tedium, the profile’s preferences kept Ben focused. In seconds, the console began to gently tink with notifications requiring Ben’s review. Ben had cast a tight net: from solar flares flickering across the system, to decaying warp signatures within five feet of the Thor. The computer made claim after claim on Ben’s attention. It was Ben’s strategy for factoring out silly post-battle mistakes.

 

((Flashback - Starfleet Academy – Training Holodeck 3 – Annex One ))

 

Gill: Attached?

 

Caroline: On the lower hull, sir.

 

Gill: Security – status?

 

Jeffers: Can confirm foreign object has made contact. :: Jeffers blinked hard and keyed his console in quick rapid strokes. Sounding confused, he spoke. :: Captain, there’s a problem. :: Jeffers paused a beat. :: It’s trying to interface with the main computer.

 

Gill: :: Standing sharply. :: Block it – whatever it is. Caroline – scan this thing, find out what it is. Garcia – speak to me.

 

Garcia: :: Flustered. :: It crossed our flight path sir. :: Ben fumbled on the console for a beat, and then found the data. :: It didn’t stand out as –

 

Gill cut Ben off.

 

Gill: Your fancy flying got us out of the battle Garcia and into … into … :: Gill shrugged his shoulders in exasperation. :: … whatever mess this is.

 

Caroline: :: Slyly to Ben. :: Some flying.

 

Caroline scoffed.

 

Caroline: :: To Gill. :: It has no identifiable signature, but the design matches Ferengi tech sir.

 

((End Flashback))

 

The tink of a notification snapped back Ben’s attention. His eyebrows raised briefly as he skimmed the notification for details. It was a small debris field. Some sort of old satellite. The floating cloud of metal was on course for the Thor’s nacelles. Ben increased power to the shields and nudged the Thor starboard. The debris drifted past with just few of the outlying pieces pinging off the Thor’s shields. 

 

Another notification tinked: they’d soon be banking up on the Sandbar. It was time to reduce speed and prepare for impulse power.

 

The Sandbar would hold Ben’s attention, no worries there.

 

End.

 

----------------------

Lieutenant Junior Grade Ben Garcia
HCO Officer
Embassy Duronis II - USS Thor NCC-82607
Author ID number: G239102MR0