Shuttle Cyrus
7:47 hours until departure
“What’s Horizon Protocol?” Crewman Zolwat asked. The short and diminutive Bolian was sitting in the packed shuttle and rather than wait for his partner to provide an answer, was already thumbing through the padd he had brought with him.
Petty Officer Valdemar Horowitz who couldn’t have been more different than the blue-skinned Bolian-dark-haired, tall and stocky-rolled his eyes. “Did you not listen to Lieutenant Carlos’ mission brief?” he said, sounding generally annoyed. “Somebody left something behind, we go bring it back.”
“There must be more to it,” said the Bolian. “Why Horizon Protocol?”
“What does it matter? Mission’s clear.”
“I just like to know the history of things. The full background of a given situation. It tends to add perspective and makes you appreciate the scope.”
“You need to stop over-thinking things,” Val shot back. “Prime Directive is not to leave things on other planets, therefore when it happens we go there and make sure to bring it back.”
“To ensure we do not contaminate their culture.”
“Precisely.”
“Ah, I found it,” he said and looked at his padd again. “Horizon, Federation starship in service in mid-22nd century. Made first contact with population of Sigma Iotia II in 2168 and inadvertently left behind textbooks, technical manuals and other literature which had a severe impact on the local populace which subsequently based their entire culture on those documents.”
“Fascinating.”
“The Horizon Protocol has been put in place to avoid similar incidents in the future,” said Zolwat and looked at his partner. “This is really important stuff.”
“Yeah.”
“No, really.”
Val shot the younger man another annoyed look. “We have eight hours to find two phaser rifles which by now could be anywhere on this planet and all they send to retrieve them are the two of us. Tells you something about how important this mission is.”
“Maybe they’re just really confident in our abilities.”
“Right.”
“Well, I’m determined to get them back no matter what. We can’t allow this culture to be contaminated by outside factors,” said Zolwat and stood to walk towards the front where he found the two pilots. He turned towards the ranking officer, a short Andorian woman named Srena. “Ensign, any chance we can just scan for these phasers.”
“Jesus, Zol, if they had been able to find them that way, don’t you think they would have done so from Eagle?” said Val upon overhearing his colleague.
The Bolian paid no mind to the petty officer.
Srena looked up at him with a smirk, seemingly amused by her two passengers. “Sorry but he’s right. The radiation of the antimatter weapon which detonated here yesterday is still interfering with sensors and transporters. It’s why we have to make these shuttle runs to get the supplies to the surface instead of just beaming them down. Not that I’m complaining.”
“An antimatter weapon?” Zolwat said and promptly checked his padd again.
The Andorian nodded, her smile quickly replaced by a sterner expression. “Yes. It was quite the mess. From what I hear it took out the entire planetary government, throwing Tiaita into virtual chaos.”
“What are we doing about that?”
She shot him an incredulous look. “We’re dropping off supplies and then we high-tail it out of here.”
“Don’t these people need more help if they lost their government?”
“Those are our orders and I hear they come all the way from the top of the food chain. Apparently this is a real political hot potato and you won’t see a lowly ensign like me asking questions about it.”
“And neither should an even lowlier crewman, Zol. Stop distracting the ensign from flying the shuttle, will you?”
“Right,” Zolwat said and gave the woman a meek smile. “Sorry.”
She returned it in kind. “That’s all right. And good luck finding those phasers.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll get them back. Sounds like we’ve done enough damage to these poor people.”
Val rolled his eyes again.
Local Airport, Tiaita Capital City
7:17 hours until departure
“Goddess gracious, this place is a mess.”
Val turned to look at his partner. “It’s goodness gracious,” he said. “If you want to use human expressions, at least make sure you get them right.”
“How are we ever going to find the phaser in this chaos?” the Bolian continued as he stood by the open ramp of the Cyrus and looking out at the hectic airport. Seemingly hundreds of vehicles of all sizes were either parked on the tarmac, just arriving or departing again. Nobody seemed to be in charge of organizing the relief drop and none of the drivers appeared to be observing any kind of traffic rules. It bordered on a miracle there hadn’t been an accident yet.
Scores of Tiaitans were running back and forth between their vehicles and the arriving shuttles to pack up as many supplies as they could.
Besides the Cyrus there were at least ten other shuttles and Border Service Star Stallions unloading their supplies. Other shuttles were just in the process of taking off to return to the freighter convoy in orbit and looking up into the sky, Zolwat could see a few more on approach.
“Watch it, coming through.”
Zolwat and Valdemar jumped aside when they heard Srena’s voice behind them and not a moment too soon to avoid being run over by an anti-grav unit she was helping to unload the shuttle.
“Still confident we get those phasers back?” Val said after they had passed.
The Bolian kept his eyes on the tarmac.
Horowitz removed his tricorder and opened the scanning device. After a moment of studying the results, he shook his head. “Just as I thought. Nothing on the tricorder either,” he said and turned it off again. “This is hopeless. Hey, where are you going?”
Zolwat was heading straight towards a uniformed Tiaitan who was loudly shouting orders to the men and women around him. What distinguished him from many others who were shouting as loudly was the fact that some were actually following his orders.
“Put those on the second truck,” he hollered at a group of Tiaitans and Starfleet officers tending to a number of recently arrived crates. “No, no, the second truck.”
“Excuse me, sir. I’m Crewman Zolwat from the starship Eagle and””
The lanky man didn’t appear to pay attention. “That won’t fit there,” he shouted at another group. “Leave it for now, we’ll pick it up later. Later, I said.”
“Uh, excuse me, I was hoping you’d be able to help us with-”
“What part of second truck, did you not understand? Leave the first truck alone. You getting any of this?”
“But this one is still mostly empty,” another Tiaitan was shouting back.
“Brothers help me,” the uniformed man moaned. “Do. Not. Touch. That. Truck. Understood? Second truck. Second truck,” he shouted and pointed towards a larger vehicle further towards the back.
The others were begrudgingly following the directions and carrying the crates to the other vehicle.
“We’re looking for some items which my have been left here yesterday.”
“We’re all looking for something,” the man said, still not making eye contact. “I’m looking for workers with enough common sense to know how to load a crate of goods the right way,” he said and then found something else that needed his attention. “You can’t leave those there, they’ll block the exit. Move those Tia-forsaken crates now.”
“Uh, right. Listen, we’d be grateful if you could help us out here.”
The man whipped around to face the Bolian. “Zoolwat, was it?”
“Zolwat actually.”
“Listen here, Zoolwat. I’m Orgun-Tia.”
“Nice to meet-”
“Tia, get it?” he said. “I’m not one of those stinking and lazy Ait rabble. I actually have a few brain-cells in my head and I need all those to make sure this Tia-forsaken operation doesn’t completely fall apart. I do not have time to deal with the likes of you,” he said. “No, no, no, second truck,” he shouted over Zolwat’s shoulder and then quickly ran into that direction. “Second truck.”
“Well, that was helpful,” said the Bolian as he watched the man go.