Captain's Log, Stardate 48533.2 : We are en route to a mining operation run by the Magna Corporation, orbiting Alpha Draconis 255 in sector 80, due to a request for technical expertise from Dr. Karl Raeburn, the geologist in charge of the resident science team.
There have been some anomalies appearing on the surface of the satellite they are currently mining and it is these that we have been asked to assist with and what they might be. Dr. Raeburn feels they could be the work of unknown alien species, which places Enterprise in the role of diplomat, and as first contact.
However, what these anomalies are remains to be seen, as they may also be formed by the shifting geological patterns in the moon's crust.
Data said, "Sir, we are approaching Alpha Draconis. Estimated time of arrival ten point three minutes."
Picard raised his head from the display he was reading. "Thank you." He glanced over at Riker, "Would you join me, Number One? Mr. Data, you have the bridge." Picard rose and made his way through to his ready room closely followed by the First Officer.
He sat heavily in his chair, and moved his fingers swiftly over the console instantly bringing a 3-D representation of the Alpha Draconis system into a semblance of life before them. Riker, placing both hands on the desk, leaned forward and looked carefully at its slowly revolving form.
It wasn't a system that could be described as anything but ordinary. A F2 main sequence star with no habitable planets – or at least nothing any humanoid would want to live on; nothing except a rather ordinary gas giant, somewhere in the region of Saturn, for comparative size, with a system of rings and rather fewer moons than you would expect. Save for one, which was big, icy, and had enough gravity to allow a thin atmosphere of sorts to cling to its scarred hide with amazing tenacity. It was the mining community's current 'home' and had the unprepossessing name of "Moon".
"Well," Riker drawled, "I'll give them that they seem to have a lack of originality for names." His eyes twinkled a little as he looked as his Captain. "'Moon' has to be the most disreputable place in this sector; it has quite a reputation for trouble."
"Hmm," said Picard and switched off the display before leaning back in his chair and taking in the tall frame of the First Officer. He considered his response. "It has never been proven categorically, but there are those that believe there is some kind of nefarious movement involved in smuggling that uses this satellite or one of the others as a base of operations."
Riker straightened, tugged his jacket into place and looked thoughtful. "Well, I have heard the rumours, Captain, but here?" He grimaced slightly. "There aren't that many places to hide something that substantial." He eyed his Captain thoughtfully. "So, are we here to investigate these weird happenings or is there a more covert reason that the Federation would like us to look into? I'm not so certain I'm happy playing galactic policeman."
"True," agreed Picard. "But then, people are endlessly inventive and where there's a will, there's generally a way, and if there is another reason that we've been sent here, I have yet to hear it." He thought on this for a moment, and then asked, "Have you decided on an away team, Will?"
"Data, La Forge and Worf," Riker stated. "This is the sort of thing they like to get their teeth into, and it's good experience for Data with all that happens on this snowball…"
Despite himself, Picard gave a little bark of laughter. "Far be it from me to question your judgement, Will, but I would enjoy a discussion with you at a later time to ascertain those reasons for your choice."
"That would be my pleasure, sir," said Riker, and grinned as they both rose to leave the ready room.
As they came back onto the bridge, the gas giant began to fill the view screen and 'Moon' came into view, a pinkish sheen to its surface as it reflected the dull light from its primary, its thin sheet of atmosphere hazing as the sunlight hit it. Data deftly took the Enterprise into orbit around the satellite, and without turning, he said, "Orbit established, Captain."
"Very good, Data."
"Sir," Worf said from tactical. "We are being hailed."
"Let's see 'em, Worf," said Riker and sat down beside his Captain, watching the transmission begin.
A human male appeared on screen, a little tired looking, with a few days worth of unshaved stubble making his face look unnecessarily grubby, but the dark brown eyes under the glowering greying brows were keen and intelligent. He nodded curtly at the assembled bridge crew, and announced himself. "Raeburn, Karl, at your service, Enterprise."
"Dr. Raeburn," acknowledged Picard, "I am pleased to make your acquaintance. If you are prepared, a team is ready to transport to your co-ordinates and begin the analysis."
Raeburn nodded, and could be seen to run his fingers swiftly over the console before him. "You should be getting them right now, Enterprise."
Data said, "Information received, Doctor."
The geologist nodded once then terminated the contact, so that once more they could see 'Moon' and a fair view of the ring system.
Riker stared at the screen, at looked over at Deana who was frowning slightly, her pretty features marred somewhat by the expression. Picard was also looking at his counsellor expectantly, and was awaiting some sort of response to the brusque manner in which they had been treated. "Any thoughts on that, Deanna."
She lifted her brows, and blew out a little sigh. "He's preoccupied, but it wasn't clear what was uppermost in his thoughts." She shrugged slightly. "I get no sense of dissemblance from him, just aggravation."
Riker nodded. "Just bad tempered, then, Counsellor? Something we are all entitled to be every now and again."
Deanna looked at Riker and smiled in reply to his gentle teasing. "Maybe, Will."
Data relished talking to O'Brien, he found that the man had a remarkable grasp of engineering and could be relied upon to make interesting conversation, and the current talk of transporter coils was proving to be most enlightening. For this to be happening while he was waiting for his companions to arrive made the wait seem a little shorter. Data reflected that it was a truly fascinating phenomenon, the way that time could be seen to concertina in any direction given what a person was doing at any one time. He had thought this to be a purely human attribute, but it seemed he was also susceptible. Bearing this in mind, he compartmentalised it for future consideration.
Miles also enjoyed talking to Data, but at this point he was somewhat relieved to see La Forge and Worf walk through the transporter room doors. The chat had become progressively more rarefied until he was certain that the start of a pounding headache was underway. So the arrival of the two officers was greeted cheerfully.
"Afternoon, sirs," he chirped, and nodded a greeting to them as well.
"How are you, chief?" asked Geordi. "And how is that gorgeous bundle you had a few months ago?"
O'Brien looked pleased, and smiled at the thought of little Molly; fast asleep in her crib in the quarters he shared with Keiko. "Pleased to report that mother and baby are just fine, thank you, sir." He grinned a bit more widely at the discomforted Worf, whose expression had become stonier than usual, but could not resist asking, "When would you like to join us for dinner, Worf, because Keiko keeps asking me about it. I'd hate to disappoint her now."
Worf glowered slightly, but knew that his friend was making fun in that peculiarly human way and thought about the invitation seriously. "I will let you know," he hedged, thinking fast and hoping he could get away with this.
"Make sure you do," responded the Chief, who was now examining the transporter controls, but already planning a way of getting the Klingon to come for dinner. Worf might think he could avoid it, but he'd be wrong. He looked up, apparently satisfied with the readout. "Are you ready, gentlemen?"
"Affirmative," said Data, as the other two joined him on the pads.
Geologist Karl 'Digger' Raeburn was waiting for them as they coalesced on the transporter platform, the sparkling energy matrix solidifying into Starfleet officers. He made a polite bow in their direction, but wasted very little time in getting to the point.
As the three were moving to join him, he said, "Pleased to meet you. If you'll follow me I'll show you round the complex, such as it is, after we've suited up and taken a look at these damn things that keep popping up all over the place."
Data was curious. "Are these anomalies annoying then or in the way?"
"Depends what you mean by in the way or annoying," Raeburn said, heading off at a rate of knots and moving swiftly to the corridor. "More that we could be disturbing something important, and I don't want another Horta incident, thank you very much."
The "Horta" incident was well known in the annals of Starfleet, even though it had been satisfactorily concluded by Kirk and his crew, and was held up as an example of what not to do if you think you have a new sentient species on the block – so to speak. The Federation had been caught with its pants down a couple of times by not paying proper attention to clues that were, in the perfection of 20/20 hindsight, glaringly obvious. This was something the crew of the Enterprise were familiar with, having been in the unenviable position themselves of a discovery of an unexpected life form in an unexpected place. The scientist there, however, had had some awareness of what was going on and had decided to proceed despite his findings, unlike the poor fools involved with the Horta. A highly unethical and amoral attitude, as all had decided once the business had been concluded to everyone's satisfaction. Data could find no fault with the man's reasoning at all.
They trudged silently behind the scientist for a few hundred metres until Geordi was unable to keep quiet any longer. His curiosity got the better of him, and he asked the question he assumed everyone else wanted to know. "So… what do you guys do for entertainment round here?"
The geologist paused momentarily, but hardly missed a beat and ploughed onwards, and answered with a question of his own. "Why, what reason do you have to ask that?"
He moved towards a set of red doors that showed clearly the danger signs warning of imminent decompression if someone was so stupid as to ignore safety protocols, and running his hand over the controls at the front of them, grunted in satisfaction. They swung apart with a hiss once Raeburn had completed the safety measures.
As they went through into the bay, he stopped and looked hard at the three officers. Geordi almost squirmed on the spot, and Worf just looked as if he was disgruntled. Data was puzzled.
Raeburn considered, and then obviously thought they could handle the truth. "We get drunk. Very, very drunk, and then we go back to work after we manage to beat the hangover."
"A hangover?" repeated Geordi, slightly bemused. "You mean you have real alcohol?"
Raeburn allowed himself a cough. "Real, yes."
"But it is poisonous," said Data.
This time Raeburn laughed, and grabbing three environmental suits, threw them towards the officers. "No shit."
The suits skittered across the polished floor, but they grabbed them and managed to get them on. They were a good fit, and even the smell from inside them was cut to a minimum, as it seemed that the care of these vital pieces of equipment was also good.
'Always nice -" Geordi muttered, while struggling to get his legs into the suit - "not to have to put up with the smell of someone else's B.O."
Raeburn snorted. "We hose those bastards after every use. There ain't anyone on this ball of ice that wants a fungal infection to go with the boredom, especially as you don't get much time to scratch or even the room to do it in."
He finished climbing into his own suit, and then grabbed the tank that hung scant centimetres away, carefully going over each gauge, and checking the seals. Then he swung it on his back and watched with grudging approval, as the others were as thorough as was he. Even Data, he noticed, though the android did not really require such. The boots were put on last and tightened, then sealed, and the four of them made their way to the glider, jostling to get inside.
Once seated, Raeburn made a few adjustments to the interior lighting, and switched on the motor of the little glider and its reassuring purr throbbed through the hull. As it lifted he toggled one of the sliders on the flight console and the bay doors began to open. Outside, through the transparent aluminium screen, the vista of Moon began to appear. It was strangely, and quietly beautiful in a stark and inhospitable way. The thin atmosphere of methane and nitrogen filtered the reddish orange light from the star and planet that hung above into a pleasing combination of soft pinks and lilacs, with stark black shadows where boulders lay and vivid flashes of bleached bone white. It was a landscape of contrasts, for the most part, but Raeburn appeared immune to all of this and gunned the engine so that the craft flew forward, straight as an arrow towards their destination.