OOC Note: This is a solo thread written as a short story to develop my character. If you would like to contribute to the thread in some way, please contact me via Discord at Zenbe10 before doing so! I hope you enjoy reading!

Posted by Lieutenant Commander Janusz Korczak (Counselor) in Solo Thread: A Quatermaster’s Query (Cadet Osten)

Posted by Cadet Wiles Osten (Security Officer) in Solo Thread: A Quatermaster’s Query (Cadet Osten)
“Computer, what is a feijoa?” Cadet Wiles Osten buttoned his golden uniform’s collar and plopped down with a small ‘oof’ on his cot as he pulled his shoes out from under the bed.

“A feijoa is a green, egg-shaped fruit native to South America, Earth,” the computer’s ever-pleasant voice recited promptly, “the fruit pulp has a sweet flavor while the rind is tart and sour.”

“Thanks, computer,” Wiles muttered as he furrowed his brow while absent-mindedly slipping on his second shoe. He had awoken to a security assignment from the quartermaster, of all people, about investigating inventory in cargo bay three. Apparently, the feijoa stock in specific was of concern.

Wiles was sure that one day such an assignment would be boring. But for now, he was excited to have his first solo mission ship-board. Even if it just amounted to opening crates in cargo bay three all day to find this missing mystery fruit.

Swiping his PaDD from his bedside stand, Wiles hopped up and headed out of his quarters, throwing a casual “lights off” over his shoulder as the doors slid shut behind him. Oddly, his roommate was up even before Wiles today. Perhaps he had gotten his first assignment from medical as well. Did he mention starting his shifts in sickbay today, or was that tomorrow?

Cargo bay three was deserted when the doors parted in front of Cadet Osten. Crates of different sizes and configurations littered the large room. It was apparent from the styles of the containers that their contents had a variety of different origins, likely from many different worlds. This made sense, considering the inventory list Wiles scrolled through on his PaDD as he stood just inside the bay doors, which hissed closed. Cargo bay three stored many items of cultural importance for the crew of the Challenger for ceremonies and celebrations, but it also stored fresh vegetables and fruits for use in the Officer’s Mess. A perk of the rank, Wiles supposed.

Investigating the missing feijoa would be easier than Wiles had anticipated, considering that only about half of the fifty different containers in the cargo bay were refrigerated. If some poor dockhand had been overwhelmed by the task of restocking the Challenger’s inventory at the last starport, hopefully they had at least determined that the fruit should be refrigerated while they misplacing them.

Wiles flailed his arms and sent his PaDD flying as he fumbled a feijoa that fell out of the refrigerated storage locker as he opened it. He winced as the PaDD clanged to the ground on the other side of the cargo bay and loosened his grip on the feijoa he had just barely caught, and likely bruised. Glancing back up at the shelf, Wiles’ eyes widened and his other hand shot up to the brim, using his forearm to stop a second and third fruit from rolling out. With a small sigh and a roll of his eyes, Wiles collected himself and the unsecured fruit, placing their container within the storage locker back upright and gingerly setting them down inside it.

With a sigh, Cadet Osten crossed the cargo bay to retrieve his PaDD, holding his breath as he picked it up. A fresh dent, but the screen was not cracked, thankfully. Refocused, Wiles checked the inventory. The Challenger was slated to have 21 feijoa onboard. Wiles had only encountered three. So he had better start searching.

The next two hours proved unfruitful. The other 24 refrigerated units had no misplaced produce to be found. Wiles hopped up onto one of the crates, letting his legs dangle as his placed his elbows on his knees and rested his head in his palms. He glanced across the room at the feijoa’s rightful container. Then with a frown, he jumped down and walked over to it again, reinvigorated.

The bucket of feijoa had been knocked over when he first opened the refrigerator. There was no way Wiles could have caused that. And he sincerely doubted that anyone would purposefully leave the fruit rolling around on the shelf. Much less the regular mess staff or the quartermaster. Wiles blinked at the remaining three fruit through their clear bucket. Why had they been left like that?

“Computer,” Wiles said cautiously as he followed his line of thinking, “who has access to this cargo bay?”

“Cargo bay three is unrestricted, all Challenger personnel are able to access its contents,” the computer responded.

Wiles groaned and tapped his PaDD. “Computer, who has accessed cargo bay three in the last 48 hours?”

“Over a dozen personnel have entered cargo bay three in the past two days. Transferring information to your PaDD now.”

At first, the information on Wiles’ screen did not appear to be particularly helpful. There were assorted cadets from various departments and a couple ensigns as well, along with the standard mess staff. But as Wiles read the list again, his eyes narrowed. There were ASSORTED cadets from VARIOUS departments listed on the access log. Why were medical, engineering, and science cadets going into cargo bay three?

He flagged the outliers. Three cadets from engineering, two from science, and one from medical. Cadet Osten was not fond of the idea of following this train of thought through. But the feijoa were missing, and he found it highly unlikely that they had been taken by mess staff without the quartermaster’s knowledge. But perhaps…

Wiles decided it was time to start questioning his fellow cadets.

OOC: Don’t forget to sign off on your posts!

James

“I was getting incense for a memorial service for my grandmother.”

Wiles’ ears burned as he replayed Cadet Ongsteadlea’s pained words in his mind over and over. He sat slumped over a bowl of clam chowder in the mess hall, absent-mindedly stirring the thick substance as he stared into its pale folds. Maybe he had been overzealous. Asking his peers about their personal comings and goings was proving invasive. And unproductive.

The PaDD in front of him had three of the six names crossed off. Another medical cadet had claimed he had wandered into cargo bay three by accident, thinking he was a couple decks up at the medical cargo bay. And an engineering cadet had claimed that he was doing routine checkups on the refrigerator motors. Wiles had considered reaching out to the chief engineer to confirm the assignment, but it seemed like a drastic measure on account of some missing fruit.

The quartermaster had not seemed particularly concerned about locating the vanished produce when Wiles had told reported their absence to him. He had waved a hand and muttered something about hoping the next starbase had some. But Wiles felt like his job was not done until he had at least figured out what happened to the feijoa. And he still could not shake the feeling that something fishy was at play.

Wiles placed the untouched clam chowder into the resequencer. He wanted to avoid another incident like with Cadet Onsteadlea if at all possible. Which meant he was headed back to cargo bay three. He still had 25 storage containers to check, after all.

As Wiles rummaged through crate number 41, the cargo bay doors whooshed open. He paused, bending back and sticking out his neck to try and see who had entered from behind the large cargo containers. The containers still blocked his view, so he opened his mouth to greet his fellow personnel. But Wiles’ security training made him pause. It was quiet in the cargo bay, aside from the hum of the ship. There were no self-assured, confident steps of someone with purpose. This person was scampering.

Cadet Osten slowly pulled his hand from the crate and slinked around the container between him and the closing door, peeking around the corner as he did so. An olive-skinned cadet in science-blue was creeping toward the refrigerated units, tossing looks over his shoulder toward the bay doors as he went.

Behind Wiles, something shifted in the crate he had been rifling through, sending a soft thud through the bay. The intruding cadet jumped and turned quickly, catching Wiles’s gaze. Wiles flinched.

The cadet, who Wiles did not recognize from his own personal knowledge or the list of suspects, offered a nervous smile. “I guess neither of us are very good at this, are we?” He glanced again at the door.

Wiles did not quite emerge from behind the crate. “Good at what?”

The science cadet winked. “Right, exactly. Did you find them? They should be in a fridge.”

Wiles’ eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he stepped out from behind the crate, causing the other cadet’s eyes to widen in turn as they flickered down to Wiles’ golden uniform.

“Wait,” Wiles quickly stated, putting his hands up, “wait let’s talk about this.”

But the other cadet had quickly put the pieces together and practically ran out of the cargo bay. Wiles cursed under his breath as he watched him go. The cadet had not admitted to anything, and more frustrating still, Wiles had not had the opportunity to ask him WHY he might be stealing feijoa of all things. Especially considering he could undoubtedly replicate them in the mess hall.

Wiles sighed and crossed the room to the refrigerator that was supposed to contain 21 of the missing fruit. He stared at the door for a moment. What the science cadet had said… referring to ‘we’ as if they were doing something together and asking Wiles where the fruit were… did not make sense. It was entirely possible, of course, that the Cadet had been in the cargo bay for some completely different clandestine reason. Maybe more than just the feijoa inventory needed to be inspected.

Wiles absent-mindedly opened the refrigerator door with a small sigh, wanting to inspect what it was about this fruit that made it worthy of abduction. But as he reached for them, he paused. There were only two feijoa in the bin. Yesterday there had been three.

Making assumptions was not Cadet Osten’s favorite method of assessing situations. But in this case, he had no choice. Answers were not coming easy, and his interaction with the other cadet had just made the whole predicament odder… and more concerning. Wiles reluctantly decided he needed to operate under three assumptions: one; that the feijoa had been stolen, two; that the cadet was involved, and three; that he was not acting alone.

(Wiles Osten, Security Cadet)