Posted by Ensign Buddy Cullum (Security Officer) in Side Sim: Concert Set Up - Buddy and the Breen

Posted by Ensign Buddy Cullum (Security Officer) in Side Sim: Concert Set Up - Buddy and the Breen
The cavernous space of Cargo Bay 1 had been transformed—mostly.

The crates were pushed back into tight, orderly stacks, leaving a wide-open floor at the center of the bay. Portable floodlights leaned at odd angles, casting long shadows across hastily erected scaffolding. Cables trailed like snakes from power nodes to amps, speaker towers, and an overclocked lighting rig that Ree’za was definitely not certified to operate.

A few tension clamps rattled loose near the makeshift riser, prompting a low, Bolian curse from somewhere beneath the drum platform.

“I said it’s level!” Jax’s voice echoed upward. “By Bolia’s fourth moon, just jam the stabilizer under the corner!”

“Is this what you call level?” came the skeptical voice of a nearby petty officer, bracing the edge with a knee. “This whole stage is a hazard.”

“That’s the aesthetic,” Ree’za called down from atop a speaker stack, tail flicking. “We’re going for ‘aggressively unsafe with a touch of cosmic enlightenment.’”

T’Lex, standing a few meters away and surveying the space with the quiet judgment of a Vulcan facing aesthetic ruin, slowly turned a spotlight six degrees to the left.

“That light was angled specifically to highlight the forcefield shimmer,” he said, deadpan.

The shimmer in question rippled faintly across the far side of the cargo bay—an energy field standing between the band and the vacuum of space, now visible thanks to some clever field-tuning. Beyond it, stars hung still and cold in the void. Empty space as the ultimate stage backdrop.

The two enlisted crewmembers still hanging around—NE Machar (Operations) and NE Hu (Engineering)—stood near a stack of crates labeled SOUND EQUIPMENT: PUNK and exchanged a long-suffering glance.

“Are they always like this?” Machar muttered under her breath.

Hu snorted. “Worse when the security guy’s here.”

There was no sign of Buddy yet—but the energy in the space already felt like a fuse being primed.

Ree’za jumped down from the stack and dusted her paws off. “He’ll show. Probably with some last-minute ‘creative vision’ that involves setting something on fire.”

“I have calibrated the forcefield to account for heat dispersion,” T’Lex offered mildly.

“See?” she said. “Teamwork.”

Ree’za, T’Lex, & Jax
Ensign Cullum ●
Security Officer
U.S.S. Ark Angel

The cargo bay doors parted with a hydraulic sigh, and Buddy stepped through, a guitar case slung over one shoulder and a coil of mic cable looped in his free hand.

He stopped just inside the threshold, taking in the scene—the lopsided stage, the barely-legal light rig, the subtle shimmer of the forcefield with open space yawning beyond it.

“Wow,” he said finally, voice flat in that special way that made it unclear if he was impressed or horrified. “Looks like you’ve all been… productive.”

Ree’za’s ears twitched. “We call it visionary chaos.”

“Yeah,” Buddy said, making his way toward the riser, stepping over a loose power cable. “And Starfleet calls it a safety violation.”

Jax popped up from under the drum platform, grinning. “Perfect middle ground, then.”

Buddy set his guitar case down next to an amp, crouched, and started checking the mic cable for frays. “Alright, let’s finish this up before someone in Ops decides we’re not cleared for launch.”

He glanced toward the enlisted pair lingering near the crates. “And you two—don’t look so worried. We’ve only had… what? Two actual explosions in rehearsal? Three if you count the plasma coil thing, but that was mostly smoke.”

Machar and Hu exchanged another glance that said exactly how reassured they felt.

Buddy just smirked. The fuse in the room felt shorter already.

Ensign Cullum ●
Security Officer
U.S.S. Ark Angel

There was a long, weighted silence after Buddy laid out the plan.

Ree’za’s tail flicked once, sharply. “That’s… bold,” she said, ears canting back. “Bold in a ‘someone’s going to file an incident report’ kind of way.”

Jax rubbed the back of his neck, glancing toward the shimmering forcefield. “I mean… technically, it’s possible. But ‘possible’ isn’t the same as ‘not terrifying.’”

T’Lex, ever the voice of cold logic, folded his arms. “The margin for error is statistically… significant. And that is assuming flawless execution of your automation sequence.”

Buddy held up the small isolinear chip between two fingers, its surface catching the light. “Flawless execution is my brand.”

“That’s not what your replicator thinks,” Ree’za muttered.

Jax let out a low whistle and crouched by his kit, giving the bass pedal an absent tap. “If we’re doing this, I’m tightening every strap on my harness twice. And if I end up with my atoms smeared across the aft bulkhead, I’m haunting you.”

“Understood,” Buddy said, slotting the chip into a secured case.

T’Lex’s gaze lingered on him for a moment longer before he finally looked back at the stage. “Then I will begin recalibrating the lighting to… complement the event.”

No one said it out loud, but the room felt just a little heavier—like they were tuning up for something they couldn’t quite take back.

And it was going to be epic.

Ensign Cullum ●
Security Officer
U.S.S. Ark Angel