Starbases. Beings of all races coming, with countless others going. A hive of activity that, on this starbase at least, worked without fuss. No one rushed or barged past someone else. Queues formed and dispersed in an orderly fashion. And a blanket air of calm extended out to every nook and cranny. In short, a boring place to be stuck waiting for a shuttlecraft that had been delayed for 3 hours due to ‘technical difficulties”.

From an internal window, Dr Jasper Jarvis surveyed the quiet activities with bemusement. He would have thought to find more chaos in such a place. Not that he welcomed it mind you. For Dr Jarvis was a man who liked things neat. In the firm grip of bony fingers, he raised a china teacup to his thin lips and sipped. A look of mild disdain formed on his face; disgusting. It tasted no different to the swill produced by the replicators back in New Zealand. An exact atomic replica of some Neanderthal’s impression on the ‘perfect’ cup of English breakfast.

A wiry man with a thin moustache, sharp eyes and sleeked back hair, Dr Jarvis sat in an old-fashioned three-piece suit, which showed signs of long-term storage. The chain of a small pocket watch visible from the waistcoat pocket. Casting his not unexpected displeasure aside, he turned to consider the rooms other occupants.

Flanking the door were a pair of Star-fleets finest hired muscle; an Andorian and a Human. Both armed with standard issue Phasers. He did not know the name of either. Finally, engaged in a heated discussion via the rooms computer terminal, sat Counsellor Pope. A stocky man with a wide moustache and short, receding hairline. While normally placid natured and well mannered, the man became a fierce negotiator when someone got his dander up. On seeing that Jasper sat studying him, the counsellor rapped up his conversation. After a brief visit to the replicator for what smelled like a strong black coffee, Pope strode over and sat opposite him.

“The repairs on the shuttlecraft are going to take longer than expected… much longer.” The man paused to take a sip of his beverage. “However, I’ve convinced the commander that your transportation needs are of paramount importance.”

Jarvis gave him a probing stare over the rim of his teacup. “Convinced or coerced, Counsellor?” he said in a nasily tone.

Pope smiled slightly. “I did what was necessary.” Such a diplomatic response, how typical. “Regardless, the commander has graciously agreed to reassign the next craft to our journey. We depart in half an hour.”

That must have taken some doing, hence the heated words, Jasper thought. Ultimately though, the news that they would be departing soon did not enthral the doctor. He had not exactly pitched up at the academy all doey-eyed and dreaming of the day he would be granted his first position aboard a starship. This situation was merely better than the alternative. With that in mind he asked, “and what happens when we reach our final destination?”

“We’ll have a meeting with the captain, after which you’ll be under her jurisdiction.” Pope’s expression turned to stone. “However, I’ll be checking in periodically. Fail to adhere to Star-fleet regulation, the captain’s orders or the conditions of your assignment and…”

“I am well aware of the consequences,” Jasper snapped. The delay was beginning to make him irritable and he had been consistently reminded of them at every opportunity.

“There should be no issue then.” Pope drained his mug. “This is a golden opportunity, Dr Jarvis. Once we reach Carraya IV you will be assisting in the construction of a new hospital and providing much needed medical aid. A positive use for your skills.”

Jasper gave the man a sour look. Counsellor Pope was a firm believer in rehabilitation through positive work. One of many things they did not quite see eye to eye on. He swallowed the last mouthful of the disappointing tea. At this point in time, he was looking forward to a different prospect. That someone on Carraya IV might have a stock of actual tea leaves.

Dr J. Jarvis M.D.