Posted by Lieutenant Mwezi (Chief Tactical Officer) in Ready Room - Meeting with the Captain

Posted by Captain Zachariah Cobb (Commanding Officer) in Ready Room - Meeting with the Captain

Posted by Lieutenant Mwezi (Chief Tactical Officer) in Ready Room - Meeting with the Captain
Posted by… suppressed (6) by the Post Ghost! 👻
Mwezi scratched his nose as he stepped out of the Turbolift and onto the bridge. He glanced around a bit, taking in the look of the place. It was a fairly nice Bridge, he decided. A bit high-tech compared to what he was used to, but considering it had been over a hundred years, it wasn’t as advanced as he’d expect. Perhaps Starfleet’s encounter with the Narada had affected their technological advances, he wondered.

Regardless, he strode across the room with purpose, heading towards the Captain’s Ready Room and pressing the chime. After visually checking the man’s chair to make sure he wasn’t in it, of course. It was still possible for him to not be in the ready room, but hopefully that was a relatively low chance.

• Mwezi

“Enter,” came a voice not quite prepared for the occasion of welcoming guests, but seemingly unperturbed by the notion all the same. A second later and the door slid open to reveal a standard-design ready room for this period - full-length observation window along the left-hand wall, a collection of shelves and cabinets along the right (most of which appeared filled by piles of paper books and scribbled schematics, save for the final cabinet that proudly displayed a collection of various liquors). And at a centrepoint between these two walls a large, blue-lit desk, similarly covered in schematics and a leather-bound paper notebook, into which a man was hastily scratching notes with an antique pen.

“Take a seat, be with you in just a second,” the man continued, his eyes never leaving the paper. Or not for sufficient time for his guest to notice, at any rate.

• Captain Zachariah Cobb

Mwezi took a few moments at the door, then made his way into the room, grabbing a simple chair and spinning it around so he could sit backwards on it, the back in front of him instead of behind. He waited for Cobb to finish what he was doing, taking that time to stare out the observation window. If he hadn’t already sat down, he might have wandered over there, just for the sake of looking at the Leviathan’s hull - or at least what parts of it could be seen from here.

She was a beautiful ship, even from what little he’d seen in the days since his arrival. He’d only met the Captain briefly, but now he took a little more time to visually examine the man as he waited. This was no Taggart, he could tell that immediately. But then again, this probably wasn’t a ship where a man like Taggart would do well as Captain.

Mwezi, CTO

Placing down the pen, Cobb’s eyes met with those across from him, lips upturning into a measured and yet welcoming smile.
“My yeoman rolls her eyes every time she sees me writing with this pen,” the captain chuckled, holding the gold-nibbed implement in his palm for Mwezi to observe. “But I find the tapping of a keyboard or the swipe of a stylus no substitute for the caress of fresh ink against paper.”

Cobb reclined back in his chair, hands rising to steeple under his chin. “So, you’re one of our stowaways, eh? I hear you caused quite the commotion amongst my medical staff with your talk of Vulcan’s demise.” There was no accusation in the man’s tone, merely unbridled and eager curiosity. “I’ve since heard a few theories on how you might have arrived here. But I would be very interested to hear your own take on the matter.”

As he waited for the other to speak, Zachariah reached for two glasses and filled them to the middle with whiskey, before nudging one towards the Laleri with an almost apologetic frown, unsure in that moment on anything regarding what, or even how, Mwezi would drink…

• Captain Zachariah Cobb

Mwezi dutifully admired the pen, tilting his head slightly to get a better angle view of it. “I’ve experienced similar things.”

“I think it has to do with some technology from our planet,” Mwezi reflected. “It was intended to be used in a similar way to Transporters, but without the splitting you into many pieces and re-assembling you on arrival. It’s also longer range. Or it was intended to be. I’m not sure if it was attempted in this… universe, timeline, whatever this is. The tech required travelers to carry a receiver-transmitter so that they can be spotted by the devices. Kula thinks that something in this universe acted as a beacon and pulled us in.”

Mwezi took the whisky and lifted it slightly. “Cheers. I hear you were dealing with your own chaos while we were arriving and confusing your officers.” He lifted the glass and drank a sip, doing so very similarly to how a human drinks from a cup. No strangeness there.

• Lt. Mwezi

Zachariah chuckled softly at the other man’s casual mention of the anomaly. “Aye, it is fair to say that you could not have picked a worse time to materialise out of thin air and onto my deck,” he smiled across the desk. Although almost instantly the smile disappeared, usurped by an expression of grave and intense severity.

“It is also true that you could not have picked a more dangerous starship to land on. The Leviathan is unlike any other in the Federation. Or, our Federation, at least. But tell me, are you familiar from your own time with an organisation called the Anomaly Recovery Unit?”

• Captain Zachariah Cobb

Mwezi thought about it for a few moments, then shrugged and shook his head. “I’m not sure, but I don’t think so. If the A.R.U., (I’m assuming you shorten it?) exists in my timeline, I wasn’t high enough clearance to know about it. I can tell you are all on the more… classified side of things. I don’t think they would have told me that kind of classified info.”

Could his ARU be unique across all known times and dimensions? Cobb’s features beamed with tentative pride at such a thought.

“Ah, yes, well…you are correct on the classified nature of our missions,” he allowed caution to dull any further temptation to brag. “Although your very presence on my ship dictates that you be given access to certain information. For your own safety.”

“I wasn’t a full Starfleet officer, to be honest, sir.” He commented, scratching his nose briefly. “Legally I am, or was, still an officer of the Interstellar Alliance. I assume your people know it as the Galdori-Okinos Alliance, just as the Starfleet of my time did. I was on trade to Starfleet as an experiment to see if our people could handle living among aliens for long-term missions. Along with a few other things. Our people were studying each-other to see if we could become allies, or even part of the Federation one day.”

• Mwezi

“I…have heard of the Galdori-Okinos Alliance, yes,” Zachariah rubbed at the bridge of his nose, his lack of experience with the Galdori embarrassingly evident. “I can submit a request for contact with a Galdori ambassador, if you wish? But our current mission has drawn us a great distance from the heart of the Federation and contact with any organisation will, for the time being, be limited.”

“I think for now it’s best to… Not do that.” Mwezi said softly. There was no reason to worry everyone with news of his existence, of his timeline. If he and Kula ever went to Galdor, it would probably be under new identities, not as alternate universe travelers.

He felt, in that moment, a great sorrow for these two stowaways, torn not only from their people but their very world and thrown into another fraught with danger and despair. The smile he offered Mwezi was pitiful remedy for their situation, but it came from the heart of the old man just the same.

“But perhaps one area is no worse than another when all are wholly new?” He shrugged, ran a hand through silver-kissed hair. “In time I feel confident that my scientists will develop the means to send you home. Or, if not there then at least to others resembling your own kind. But all of that must come secondary to our current mission. You see, in our timeline, the ARU is critical. And deviation from our objectives could herald the destruction of the universe itself.”

“I understand,” Mwezi said with a quiet nod to each of Cobb’s points. The possibility of going home was enticing, but if he stayed here forever he wasn’t sure he’d mind. If he was with Kula, he could manage. Until such a time, he was on this ship, and there was nothing to change that fact.

He paused to allow the full scope of his words to sink in.
“So for the time being, I shall do everything within my power to make you both comfortable. But one thing I can not do, I am afraid, is allow either of you to leave.”

• Captain Zachariah Cobb

Mwezi contemplated the situation. If it had been stated in another tone of voice or by another man, he might have thought that last phrase was a threat. But from Cobb in this moment… It was a sad certainty. Kula and him had stumbled onto a classified vessel with classified missions, and they were in the thick of things now. There was nothing to do but let things play out. Maybe one day they’d go home, to Galdor if not to their old Timeline. But that day wasn’t today, or any day in the near future.

The Laleri nodded gravely, giving Cobb a look of understanding. “I understand, Sir. For the stability of the universe, this is our new home. At least for a long while.”

• Mwezi

Cobb appeared almost relieved. “It’s not a bad home, for the most part. Three decks of pernicious anomalies and countless more on the horizon aside.” His laughter was brief. And while genuine, did nothing to diminish his words serious intent.
“I can offer you no promises on your personal safety, as I can not for any member of my crew. But what I can offer is anything else you may need? Our guest quarters are comfortable and spacious and Mr Durheim can configure an environment to meet almost any specification. As for your time, you are of course free to spend it as you choose. Although they say the devil makes hard work for idle hands. So if you have any skills or talents that could be put to good use?”

• Captain Zachariah Cobb