Silentium Est Aureum

Posted on Sat Jan 2nd, 2021 @ 1:40am by Warrant Officer Eitan Tuscadero

Mission: The Mentarin Effect
Location: Lounge
Timeline: Before "The Transporters"

"Hey Tully, I'll catch up with you later," said Brooks from Engineering as he passed by Eitan Tuscadero. Tully had only known Brooks for a short time, but they were already on a very informal way of addressing one another when off duty. Brooks was undoubtedly on his way back to Engineering given he was in uniform and looked in a hurry. Tully had loosened his uniform and pushed his sleeves up as he grabbed a tray, placed his PaDD on it and ordered himself something to eat from.the replicator in the lounge.

It was not the primary lounge of the large starship, but rather one of the several smaller and more intimate lounges which were better suited for being among some people for ambient noise yet provided enough calm to get lost in one's own thoughts. Tully ordered a nice green salad with plenty of fruits, a few vegetables, and a helping of nuts. He treats himself to strawberry cream soda over ice. No matter how good he was about what he ate even if it was all replicated to the most healthiest synthetic form, he could never shake the childhood habbit of a strawberry cream soda.

He navigated his way through the room to find a table vacant for just himself. Tully was not due back in transporter room one for some time, but he had a bit of a problem on his hands. He had made a decision that hindered the starship's present mission albeit it was not a call he alone made. He was a contributor to the decision, an unpopular one at that. He had declared the transporters inoperable for the time being, unable to be safely used where they were. The planet simply did not permit it.

Tully had a few forkfuls of salad, several sips of his strawberry cream soda, but his concentration was not on nourishing his mind or body, but rather deciphering what everything meant in his PaDD. A level five diagnostic on the transporters had been completed from every transporter room on each device and forwarded to him. He had accessed the full detail diagnostic reports. Technically, everything was functioning normally, but the simulations did not lie. Any attempt at using the transporters to beam anybody down or up was a risk he was not willing to take.

In fact, it was only a 45% chance of success of transport with inorganic items. Something organic say...the Captain of the starship was dropped that probability percentage to the high thirties. Additional organic signatures dwindled that number further. No sane transporter operator liked to have the probability of a successful transport fall beneath 95%, some would not even risk it at 97%. So, we'll beneath a coin toss outcome merited his objection to transporter use and rendering them inoperable for the time being.

He was lost in a whirlwind of text when someone nudged his table enough to break his focus. "Mister Tuscadero? A problem?" the male said looking down at Tully. It would take some getting used to for sure. Being addressed as 'Mister Tuscadero' reminded him of his all boys school as a child and teenager. Sister Cecilia was not to be messed with and whenever he was addressed as 'Mister Tuscadero' Sister Cecilia rest her sardonic soul, was resurrected in his mind's eye.

It was not Sister Cecilia there reprimanding him though, it was a Bolian ensign from security. Tully couldn't remember his name, but remembered that he was in security, loved Kadis-kot, and had three children with his wife and co-husband. "Oh, don't worry about me, Sir," Tully replied. "I'm just looking over some diagnostic reports, nothing to be worried about."

The Bolian chuckled. "You look like you could use a distraction. I am looking for someone to play Kadis-kot with. Are you any good?"

That's a kind offer thought Tully. "Sorry Sir, I can't right now. I would be interested though. Another time perhaps?" The Bolian smiled and chuckled jovially agreeing on the 'rain check' excuse and let Tully get back to studying the diagnostic reports without any additional disruption or disturbance.

Back to reviewing the diagnostic reports which yielded very little. Something was amiss, but he did not know what yet. This was not a technological failure of the ship's transporter systems nor was it an isolated malfunction of one of the transporter units. All of them were being effected by something external which meant either something in the space around the starship itself or from the planet.

He pressed onward by requesting access to the latest information from the science department. Perhaps something from sensors or a probe had unearthed information of value. Tully already knew that the planet had a terribly toxic atmosphere. Perhaps not enough to outright kill you, but long term exposure to it would likely take years off someone's lifespan. That makes sense he thought as he read more about the planet. It was incredibly rich in dilithium. It was a mining planet and undoubtedly why the Federation dispatched the Resolution to it.

He noted mention of heavy metals in the atmosphere. That and the general pollution were not surprising. Mining worlds, especially those that did not adhere to Federation standards were often polluted to a point of no return. The very thing that made a planet, moon, or asteroid's economy or gained them a position of power was more often than not doomed to die by the other edge of the same sword. All that mining was going to destroy them. If it wasn't for geological instability due to overdoing the mining operations or poor practices, it would be environmental ramifications.

Nevertheless, he had a clue of what the problem was. That was only a hunch, however, and more problematic that potentially knowing what was causing the problems with the transporters was the fact that if his hunch was correct, he knew if no easy fix solution to compensate. Tully took a few more bites of salad and washed it down with the pink carbonated beverage.

He would finish his meal and then head back to transporter room one. He wanted to get a head start at trying to pin down his suspicions and be prepared when someone came looking for answers. The general response of 'Sorry, transporters are inoperable right now' would only last so long.