thor Cmdr. Geoffrey Teller - Modern Problems

[Alieth]

 

Ladies, gentlemen, people of neutral or other genders, meet Mr. @Geoffrey Teller and his unique ability to turn something mundane into something fun and a true genius. 

((XO's office, Deck 1, USS Thor))

 

Unnecessarily straightening his uniform for the seventh time in as many minutes, Geoff Teller shifted in his chair and watched as the chrono counted down.  He hadn't been looking forward to this call and even though the smorgasbord of brass were all safely on the other side of a screen, Geoff still felt their looming shadows like they were in the office with him.  Teller gulped the remainder of his cup of coffee and looked towards the carafe parked on his desk, already half-empty.  

 

Starfleet Command was still digesting their most recent mission reports and unsurprisingly, they had more than a few questions about how matters were handled.  It was a formality for the most part triggered automatically when Fleet Captain Kells mentioned the Prime Directive in his mission report but it still rankled Geoff slightly that his judgement, and that of his CO, was being dissected from afar.  Still, he'd gotten to his office early, prepared his mission notes thoroughly and legibly and he'd even polished his pips.  In his experience, Admirals appreciated a bit of extra spit & polish.  The last few seconds ticked off and the display on his wall monitor was replaced briefly by that Starfleet Command.  Geoff sat up, prepared for at least three admirals and their various aides, but after a minute all he continued to see was the Starfleet Command logo, spinning in place.  

 

Teller:  The hell...

 

Vansen:  =/\= ....an you hear me now?  =/\=

 

One third of Geoff's screen was replaced with the shaky image of a Lt. Cmdr. in Engineering gold.  

 

Teller: =/\= Uh...hello? =/\=

 

Vansen: =/\= Oh finally, the Admiral is going to kill me if he misses any more calls today.  Damn..on.s.orm.re..ly..fou....p....tran..iver =/\= 

 

The image degraded before freezing and being replaced with a test pattern.  Geoff snorted a laugh but felt a pang of empathy for the poor engineer that was about to give bad news to an Admiral about their subspace transceiver.  He wondered if that meant the meeting was going to be rescheduled when the right third of his monitor came alive with the image of a particularly stoic and wizened looking Vulcan Rear Admiral.  Any smirk on Geoff's features was immediately erased as his spine stiffened.  The Admiral pinned him with a frosty gaze and began speaking.

 

T'mpok: =/\=...........=/\=

 

Geoff's brows furrowed in confusion.  He could see the Admiral's mouth moving, so Geoff was certain the man was saying...something.  Geoff found himself nodding along at what he thought were appropriate moments but he could find no break or pause in which to politely tell the Admiral that his audio pickups had been disabled.  

 

T'mpok: =/\=...........=/\=

 

It felt like an eternity but the Admiral paused and Geoff interjected as best he could.  

 

Teller: =/\= Sir this is Cmdr. Teller...I'm not sure if you can hear me or not, but I haven't been receiving your audio...I can see you just fine though..sir...I recommend running a level 3 diagnostic of your...=/\=

 

The Admiral's image suddenly winked out and Geoff was left with his mouth hanging open, wondering what he'd done (recently) to earn the favor of the subspace gods.  A few moments later a brief text message from the Admiral's office came through stating that the Admiral had only recently received a new communications unit and was still, in their words, 'getting used to it.'  Geoff could hear an aides deep exasperation written large between every letter.  He responded and offered to reschedule as the center of his screen came to life.  

 

Roth:  =/\= Cmdr. ::bark:: Teller?  This ::bark:: is Cmdr. ::bark:: Shelby Roth in ::bark bark:: Admiral Otyl's office...I ::bark:: apologize for ::bark:: MISCHA NO!  MISCHA DOWN! :whimper, scratching sound:: Don't you dare!...Go, go...go find your bobo... =/\=

 

Geoff watched this unexpected animal psychology lecture with rapt fascination.  His only regret at the moment was not having a snack of some type on hand.  The Commanders image was briefly replaced with an empty chair and Geoff could hear the distinct swish of doors opening and closing in the background.  

 

Roth:  =/\= Sorry about that, Commander.  The Admiral's prized Alfa-177 can be a real handful when things aren't just so. ::Muted bark:: To that end, the Admiral is behind ::Muted bark:: schedule...he was supposed to be here to get his ::Muted bark:: dog three hours ago.  I'm reaching out to let you know we're rescheduling this debriefing and we'll forward you ::Muted bark:: a new set of subspace ::Muted bark:: frequency details.  =/\=

 

Off camera there was the sound of something heavy crashing to the ground, the excited yapping of a completely uninvolved dog, and a colorful string of expletives from Commander Roth, several of which Geoff would have to look up.  The screen winked out and the three panels merged, replaced again with the stately logo of Starfleet Command, under which Geoff was surprised to see a small query prompt.  

 

Teller: Well I guess the call quality was pretty good...

 

Geoff tapped five several times, hit submit and poured himself another cup of coffee, relaxing in his office chair and reveling in his unexpected free time.  

 

[End]

 

===============================

Commander Geoffrey Teller

Executive Officer

USS Thor - NCC 82607

Commodore A. Kells, Commanding

V239509GT0

[Wes Greaves]

Literally came to post this today since nobody had yet and you beat me to it.

 

Loved this venting of our modern problems!