Ensign Roy Bancroft - A Truffle... I Mean Trifle... of Consciousness
Carter Schimpff
((Science lab 2, Deck 9, USS Artemis))
Bancroft: ::gritting his teeth at the container:: You’ve just met these people. Isn’t it a little early to be forming those kinds of opinions?
Jeff: ~They’re scientists, my man. They judge for a living. Plus, I’m pretty sure it’s how they flirt.~
Jovenan: I see… May I ask where you found…Jeff?
Richards: Is Jeff the only one? Or are there others?
And just like that, the wave hit – a slow, cold undertow of creeping horror. There was simply no way to explain any of this without sounding like he belonged in a very special jacket.
He could already picture the medical board hearing.
Ensign Bancroft, is it true that you purchased and inhaled spores from a bioluminescent fungus?
License revoked. Reassigned to a long-forgotten starbase. A room with no windows. Group therapy led by a hologram named Gary.
Bancroft: ::cautiously:: Jeff was… acquired… on DS224. I bought him from a Lurian vendor on the promenade. I was… foraging. To make a risotto.
He paused, and then added as if it would make things better:
Bancroft: For my mental health.
Jeff: ~And for flavor. Let’s not pretend you didn’t intend me to die a delicious, buttery death.~
Roy cleared his throat and gestured at the container.
Bancroft: To my knowledge, he’s the only one. Which I’m… grateful for.
Jeff: ~Speak for yourself. A network of me would revolutionize Federation morale. Or, at the very least, their cooking.~
Jovenan: And how do you communicate with it?
Bancroft: He, uh… ::rubbing the back of his neck:: speaks. To me. Telepathically. It’s mostly critiques. Occasionally recipes. He seems to have an immediate grasp of whatever I’m thinking.
Jeff: ~Little of consequence though it may be. You should touch some grass.~
Richards: ::With some snark:: Interesting….
Jeff’s glow shifted – a slow ripple of deep teal as Jovenan leaned closer.
Jovenan: Hello Jeff. I’m Jovenan, nice to meet you! Would you mind if we asked a few questions?
Jeff: ~She seems nice. Shame she can’t hear me. Go on then, Bergen, relay the message like a good man.~
Bancroft: He… appreciates the introduction, but doesn’t appear to be able to speak to you. Yet.
Jeff pulsed a steady blue – the color Roy had tentatively labeled amused superiority. Like a housecat that had just knocked over a priceless vase and was now idly licking its paw.
Richards: Tell me everything that’s happened with this… Fungus. Start from the beginning.
Roy sighed.
Bancroft: After I purchased him, I brought him back to my quarters. Tried to prep him for dinner–
Jeff: ~Tried to murder me.~
Bancroft: I didn’t know you were you. Anyway. The moment I sliced him in half, there was a… puff of spores. Then a voice. Then a lot of unsolicited advice about garlic.
The worst part? The risotto had been better after he’d followed Jeff’s advice.
Bancroft: He’s been narrating my life ever since. Nothing my medical scanners could detect that would suggest telepathy… or a complete mental break… refreshing though that would be at this point.
Jovenan: Response
Richards tapped info rapidly into her PADD. Neither of the scientists had called for him to be carted away to the counselor’s office yet, which Roy took as a hopeful sign.
Richards: ::Looking back to Jovenan:: Is uh- Jeff talking to you?
Bancroft: He’s trying. Doesn’t seem to be succeeding. And for that, you should count yourself among the blessed.
Jeff: ~There’s no reason to be rude, especially when you’re so thoroughly average at it.~
Jovenan: Response
Richards lifted the container. Jeff glowed shades of blue – warm, inviting, almost bashful.
Jeff: ~Hello. You’re radiant… glowing… have you recently consumed a large amount of food? There’s a gravitas and grandeur to you…~
Richards: Did you just call me fat? I’m pregnant. ::Setting the container back down:: That is the rudest fungus I have ever met.
Jeff pulsed a deeply guilty chartreuse – a color that Roy had seen only once before, when Jeff had momentarily confused teaspoons and tablespoons.
Jeff: ~Let the record reflect, I said she had gravitas and grandeur. Which I think we can all agree is not the same as girth.~
Bancroft: I’m not touching that. Nope. I may be hallucinating, but I’m not stupid enough to wade into this miasma of–
Jovenan/Richards: Response
Roy shifted uneasily, weight moving from foot to foot. Jovenan still seemed in the dark. Richards looked like she wanted to vaporize the jar and move on with her day. Whether Jeff was sentient or just… a really persistent hallucination, this wasn’t going how Roy had hoped.
Bancroft: It’s possible the spores released when I sliced into him caused a persistent, undetectable hallucination. Or they created some kind of telepathic bridge. They’d have to be neuroactive… and of a class we haven’t catalogued yet… ::beat:: But it would explain the voice. And the fact that he once corrected my French during salad prep.
Jeff: ::smugly:: ~Salade nicoise is not pronounced ‘nice-wahzz’. I stand by my intervention. That was a crime against the spoken word.~
Jovenan/Richards: Response
Bancroft: If this is all just a hallucination, then I’m the problem. And if I’m the problem… at least that kind of makes sense.
Jeff: ::gently:: ~That’s beautiful. Tragic. Deeply flawed. I like it. Very Roy 2402. You mother would agree.~
Jovenan/Richards: Response
TAG/TBC!
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Ensign Roy Bancroft
Medical Officer
USS Artemis-A
A240205RB1