Just a chat

Posted on Mon Dec 1st, 2025 @ 5:54pm by Avalon [ADMIN NPC] & Chief Petty Officer Rheanna Yates [Admin NPC] & Petty Officer 2nd Class Rennik Tol [Admin NPC] & Crewman Apprentice Jani Reth [ADMIN NPC]

Mission: Season 6: Episode 6: Conglomerate
Location: Cargo Bay 3 section D
Timeline: Md4 late
483 words - 1 OF Standard Post Measure

The cargo bay lights were dimmed to half, casting long shadows between stacked supply crates. The air smelled faintly of lubricant and coolant—quiet, neutral scents that masked human nerves.

Petty Officer Rennik Tol slipped through the half-open maintenance hatch, checking over his shoulder before sealing it. Inside, seven others were already waiting: engineers, med techs, a transporter operator, even one marine in off-duty fatigues.

“Relax,” Rennik said, raising both hands as if to calm the ghosts in the room. “It’s not a mutiny. It’s a conversation.”

Chief Mate Rheanna Yates stood with arms crossed. “You said that last time, Tol. And last time, it nearly got half this deck written up for ‘conduct unbecoming.’”

Rennik gave her a faint grin. “Then let’s make sure no one hears us this time.”

He perched on a crate. “Look, we all feel it—the tension, the silence. We’ve been stranded out here almost a year. We fix what breaks, we lose people, and Command keeps saying ‘We’re making progress.’ But what if we’re not? What if we’re just spinning in circles?”

Crewman Kara Loran, the Trill nurse’s aide, looked down at her clasped hands. “All I want is honesty. If there’s a way home, fine. If there isn’t, then we deserve to know. Some of us left families behind, Rennik. They deserve truth, not false hope.”

“Truth doesn’t fix morale,” Yates muttered. “If we start tearing apart the chain of command, the ship won’t survive long enough to find out anything.”

“That’s why this isn’t about tearing anything down,” Rennik countered quickly. “We’re not planning anything stupid. Just… asking questions. Together. Maybe if we speak with one voice, they’ll have to listen.”

A low hum of uncertain agreement rippled through the small group.

The marine, Corporal Jex Morren, finally spoke, his tone gruff. “You start forming committees, people will call it a movement. And movements get crushed. I’ve seen it.”

“Then we stay quiet,” said Loran. “Private talks. Notes passed, not shouted. If Command won’t listen to one of us, maybe they’ll listen to twenty.”

Rennik nodded slowly. “We’ll keep it civil. Respectful. Starfleet to the core. But they need to understand—the crew is breaking. And if the bridge can’t see it from up there, we’ll have to make them look.”

Yates hesitated, then sighed. “You’re playing with fire, Tol.”

He looked at her, weary but resolute. “Maybe. But sometimes fire’s the only thing that gets noticed.”

The room fell silent again, filled only by the distant thrum of the ship’s engines—steady, endless, and tired, just like them.

As the group quietly dispersed through side hatches, no one noticed the faint red glimmer of a status light on a forgotten maintenance console—a recording indicator, still blinking.

Tbc...