The Price of Postage

Posted on Tue Apr 22nd, 2025 @ 9:12am by Ensign Tobias "Toby" Dienstag & Ensign Brooke Parker & Lieutenant Commander Darrod Hanous

1,071 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: Mission 5: The Price of Paradise
Location: Science Lab #1
Timeline: M5 MD10 (2268.08.2) 1800

During red alert status the most boring duty station in town were the science labs. Science lab #1 was no exception. Ensign Dienstag sat, more like laid, at one of the lab tables. The side of his gentle face touched the cold metallic table top. Although cleared for duty he was still recovering from his wounds at the Relay Station H-57, his left side was still noticeably bandaged through the close fitting blue uniform tunic.

Brooke Parker sat across from him. Unlike her counterpart, the rather attractive young woman was leaned back in the high backed Burke chair reading This Side of Paradise (1920) by F. Scott Fitzgerald. Lt. Karashka for laughs had them go over the sensor data for the past month. The task was definitely busy work designed to ruin their afternoon. Fortunately Toby programmed the computer to finish the task for them.

The door to science lab opened, snapping Toby awake. He sat up suddenly as a team of engineering officer descended upon them.

"The chief needs this container analyzed as soon as possible, it released some sort of nerve agent. He and the Captain want to know what we are dealing with," the engineer announced.

"Any other information on it?" Brooke asked, curiously as she set the book down onto the table.

Toby stood up and peered into the open, mundane shipping container.

"The tricorder readout," the engineer said, holding up a yellow tape. He set it down onto the desk. "There isn't much to go on, good luck," he said before he and his team started to leave.

"Thanks a bunch," Brooke responded sarcastically.

"Should we tell Car Crash?" Toby asked.

Brooke shook her head, "This is our puzzle to solve... All she'll do is dance around and then take the credit," she said, "Alright, let's take a look."

Darrod walked in, hands in his pockets, trying to be quiet. "Start with paralytics."

Toby looked up from the computer terminal at the Orion engineer. He wasn't expecting the Commander to show up and breath down their necks but he nodded, "So far nothing from Federation sources," he said, "But... I've seen this pattern before." He looked at Brooke, "Could you pull up that inoculation from our mission to the interphase?" He asked.

Brooke nodded as she cued up the formula.

"That's what I thought," Toby responded before reporting to the Chief Engineer. He stiffened up, "Theragen... A nerve agent used by the Klingons and synthesized near here. Potent enough to have knocked out the entire crew and potentially killed a majority..."

The look on Darrod's face was highly unpleasant. It didn't much resemble the usually cheerful engineer they'd come to know. "They tried to murder us over nothing but a cargo of bloodworm medicine. That doesn't make any sense - it's not profitable. They could have just taken the cargo and warped out. What else are they looking for that justifies that?"

He straightened up, and tried to get his temper back under control. Questions about tactics and reasons had to be addressed to another department. For now, this was the domain of the scientists. "Is it pure theragen, or is there something else mixed with it? And once we've gotten this sorted out, we'll need to review the ship's air filters. The same gas has been used against us twice now, I want to refit the air filtration system and atmosphere control systems to filter it and fire automated alerts."

"The Midway is also valuable, more so than a shipment of medical supplies," Toby offered. He stopped for a moment to think, "You know this whole situation reeks of our first mission... Do you think it's... What was her name?"

Brooke shrugged her shoulders, "You were on the bridge, I wasn't," she reminded him, "But wasn't she killed when we torpedoed the station?"

"Not necessarily..." Toby commented and then he blushed slightly, "Sorry Commander..." Realizing he hadn't answered the engineer's question and that he had been thinking out loud instead, "It's mixed with hydrogen to lighten it as Theragen is a rather heavy molecule," he said.

Darrod looked between them, letting the two scientists discuss their theories. He'd long since learned to listen when the real geniuses talked - about anything. On this, though, he was the subject-matter expert. "No apology needed. Never expect that a Camboro is dead until you've seen the body, and checked that it's not one of their prisoners with plastic surgery."

Unusually grim, certainly - but also truth as far as he knew. But he changed his focus quickly. "Mixed with hydrogen, good. We can track that with the default atmosphere programming; we can build the new filters later. Is there a known atmospheric antigen for Theragen that we can load into the atmospheric tanks?"

Toby nodded, "Sure, we can synthesize..." he started before leaning back into the Burke chair. He stared up at the ceiling for a moment, "Cyclodextrins... cyclic sugar molecules have hydrophobic interiors and hydrophilic exteriors. They can trap small hydrophobic molecules like Theragen and render them inert... We could introduce the substance into the air ducts and then flush the system... It wouldn't take long and we could do it in sections," he finished, looking back at the engineer.

Darrod nodded, his mind already working on the problem. He snapped back into focus after a moment. His concern was obvious, as much for the crew as the ship herself. He'd almost lost good men, and he wasn't going to let his former countrymen have a shot at them again if he had any say in the matter. "Wouldn't take long at all, no. Let's get a flush going, then load a synthesized mass of cyclodextrins into the backup atomizers. I'll have the Environmental guys write a routine to release it if hydrogen concentration exceeds nominal by an order of magnitude in any one section without known causes in place. We'll have to deal with the ten second delay for particle scanning thanks to the ship's data net. It'll just have to do. Get that synthesis dealt with - then contact my guys to help you get the cyclodextrin solution into the atomizer storage tanks."

"Understood commander," Brooke responded as she watched the engineer leave. Pure determination, pure professionalism. She looked back at Toby and smiled, "Well, you did it again," she said, "Glad you came back on duty early."

"All in a day's work," Toby responded.

 

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