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PNPC Lieutenant Sanara Pran: Informed Choices


Sal Taybrim
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(( Weapons Evidence Laboratory – Security Complex, Starbase 118 Operations Tower ))

 

:: Seven hours. That’s how long Sanara Pran had been sat inspecting the weapons seized from the marauder Krayvet. Seven hours of tedious scanning, tagging and bagging- or some cases binning. For what amounted to a handful of Orion privateers, they had amassed a collection of weapons so large, it would make a Klingon battalion jealous. Some were standard Orion crafted knives, designed to be hidden from view discreetly, there were several ceremonial Klingon knives that Sanara swore smelt of dried blood, an assortment of Reman daggers and even a Jem’Hadar kar’takin. The fact that these men had possibly killed a Jem’Hadar warrior was disturbing.

Or it would have been if Sanara had not of lost the will to live.

 

As she placed another weapon under the scanner and peered into the viewing hood to examine it for possible identification marks or striations, she sighed heavily, hoping that it was not too long until the end of her shift. Checking the chronometer in the corner of the hood, she groaned as she realised she had another three hours till she was due to finish. Leaning back up, she got to her feet and yawned, rubbing the back of her neck. The tiredness was real.

 

Making her way across the evidence lab, she came to a stop in front of the replicator. ::

 

Pran: Shot of espresso.

 

Computer: Please choose from one of the sixty seven different flavours of espresso.

 

:: Rolling her eyes, she let out another sigh, as the replicator displayed a list of all the available flavours. All she wanted was something to keep awake, rather than a thousand and one questions with the replicator. She pressed a flavour at random without paying it much mind, hoping it would be pleasant and not targ-flavoured. ::

 

Computer: Thankyou. :: beat :: Please select from the selection of available cup designs.

 

:: That elicited another audible groan from the tired and now irked security officer. ::

 

Pran: Computer, I don’t care what kind of cup my espresso comes with, or the kind of espresso I have. I just want an espresso!!

 

Computer: Please restate request.

 

Pran: :: to herself :: Trillus preserve me. :: beat :: I have no preference, surprise me.

 

Computer: Understood. Cup design will be randomised. :: beat :: Please specify temperature.

 

Pran: :: the last nerve gave in, and she looked at the replicator with a loathesome look. :: I. don’t. CARE. :: beat :: Why am I being asked a million questions? Why can’t you just give me a regular espresso?!

 

Computer: It is help you make an informed choice.

 

Pran: :: snapping :: My choice is this: regular espresso, hot…. And I don’t care about the cup design. It could have a seh’lat dancing to Lady Shadonna on it for all I care.

 

:: The computer chirped affirmatively and the tired security officer snatched the drink from the replicator pad and downed the bitter beverage in one gulp, before putting the cup down on the pad again with a dark scowl. With another heavy sigh, she returned to the scanner and carried on with her tedious assignment. ::

 

--

Lieutenant Sanara Pran
(Disgruntled) Security Officer

Starbase 118 Operations

 

as simmed by:

 

Lieutenant  Commander Theo Whittaker
Executive Officer
StarBase 118 Ops
C239203TW0
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