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Ensign Conrad Adler Com/Ops -- Busy Work

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((StarBase 118 – Deck 1040, section 3, Adler’s Quarters))

:: Adler’s quarters were not far from the Dungeon he was just in, only a few decks up really.  He had programmed the computer to play music upon his arrival, so when the doors opened, he was greeted by a waltz, “An Der Schonen, Blauen Donau” by Johan Strauss II.  ::

:: After his first whiskey down at the Playhouse, Conrad had switched to hot coffees instead, and now he was just about ready to hit the sack.  He leered at the mirror on the wall near the door and decided his hair didn’t need refitting before bed.  He opened his jacket and unzipped the gold tunic about halfway on his way to the bed chamber.  When he got there, he did an about face toward the exit and let himself fall backwards onto the oh-so-comfortable mattress.  ::

oO Nice quarters they have here.  Not at all like on a starship.  Unless I was an admiral.  That’ll be the day. Oo

Adler:  Computer, decrease playback volume 50 %.

:: The computer obeyed, and the music quieted a little. Conrad let the mixed excitement and frustration of the day escape his lips as he closed his eyes and let the computer waltz him to sleep. ::

Computer:  Incoming transmission from cargo freighter Tilma.

:: Adler’s eyelids slowly reopened themselves.

Adler:  :: Quietly, to himself. :: What?

Computer:  Incoming transmission from the cargo freighter ...

Adler:  Yes, yes, I heard the first time.  :: Conrad sat up in bed, sighing. :: Let’s hear it, Computer.

Computer:  Text only.

oO Of course. Oo

:: Conrad rubbed his eyes, smacked the back of his head a couple times, lightly, and got up and went to sit down at the computer terminal on the coffee table in the middle of the main room. When he activated the monitor, there were all sorts of promotional messages about station amenities he decided to deal with later.  He opened the message from his family’s cargo ship. Essentially it told him that everyone was doing well, except that their space cat, Munkwitz, had passed on. ::

oO Oh, that’s a shame. Oo

:: It also told him he had a new baby niece and expressed hope he would be able to see her before she graduated college. ::

oO We’ll see. Oo

:: The letter concluded with well wishes and some kind of allusion to his mother’s most recent success in the freighter’s tiny kitchen, something about making a blood pie that didn’t sicken the crew.  ::

oO Oh, that’s a plus. Nice work, Mom. Oo

:: Adler rose from the couch he’d sat on and stood looking out the window at the stars.  An unbeatable view, always similar and dissimilar to other views from space, always home.  In the morning, he would report for duty, but for this moment was his to take in as another waltz finished off in the background. ::

((Time Passes, undetermined))

((Adler’s Quarters))

:: Aboard the freighter Tilma, things were getting hot.  Conrad’s parents had been unable to afford the upkeep of their fine vessel’s gold toilet fixtures, so they’d been smuggling various contraband to keep up.  Conrad had warned them time and again that Starfleet would eventually take notice and send him out to catch them.  So, that must be why he was aboard right the Tilma now.  Yes, that must have been it.  Now they were under heavy fire from an unidentified pirate ship and had taken damage.  His father was yelling something about never giving up.  He said He’d blow up his own ship first.  Amid Conrad’s pleas that he take no such extreme steps, the com system rang him awake and out of his dream. ::

Silveira/or other Senior Officer: =/\=???=/\

oO What? I just went to bed. Oo

Adler:  What do you want!  Crazy!  :: Adler opened his eyes. :: Oh, I mean ... =/\= Adler.  What can I do for you, sir? =/\=

Silveira/or other Senior Officer: =/\=???=/\=

:: Adler sighed and looked up at the ceiling. ::

Adler:  Computer, cancel playback.  :: The music stopped. ::   =/\= I’m sorry about that, sir.  I had just gone to bed.  What are your orders, sir? =/\=

Silveira/or other Senior Officer: =/\=???=/\=

Adler: =/\= Thank you for your concern, sir, but I assure you I am ready for duty. =/\=

:: As an afterthought, Conrad double checked the uniform he was still wearing.  It seemed okay. ::

Silveira/or other Senior Officer: =/\=???=/\=

:: As the Chief of Operations filled him in, Conrad got up and walked to the replicator. ::

Adler:  =/\= I’ll get right on that, Commander. :: Barking at the replicator :: Double espresso, one sugar, hot! =/\=

Silveira/or other Senior Officer: =/\=???=/\=

Adler: =/\= Sorry, Commander.  I was just getting coffee.  I’ll get right to work, Sir. =/\=

:: Conrad took a sip before the channel closed, then set the cup on the nearby table. ::

Silveira/or other Senior Officer: =/\=???=/\=

:: Conrad went to the toilet, straightened up, zipped up the tunic and jacket, and rechecked his appearance in the mirror there.  Running his fingers through his longish hair and running a hand across his neckline, he decided he could use a trim under the beard but let it pass for now.  He had bigger fish to fry.  Hopefully no one would put him on report this first time.  He went to retrieve his personal tool case from under his bed, left the bed chamber, picked up his coffee, and left his quarters.



Ensign Conrad R. Adler

Com/Ops Officer

StarBase 118 Ops


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