ScottSabourin

Muon nodded, and it was at Scott. He was supposed to arrange for some shuttles to fly out to where the Yorktown was when he and Arthur hailed them; Captain Halloway needed to know about the situation. However, the Yorktown had something in tow, which was dropped to increase Yorktown’s speed, cutting their ETA in half. But just a minute ago, Captain Halloway informed the crew that it was a Cardassian Freighter, with dead engines. So Muon nodded, and it was at Scott. He was supposed to arrange for some shuttles to fly out and tow the freighter back to the station. So Scott tapped up a message which read along the lines of “send shuttles to retrieve Cardassian Freighter at coordinates… partially urgent… file a flight plan with Ensign Dent before leaving.” He sent the message to the shuttle bay, to await its first reading by the officer on duty there; but it would have to wait for that officer to look at his or her console. Eventually, Captain Halloway left the Control Tower, and Scott sat there thinking, ‘I need sleep!’ So he pressed a couple buttons, stood up, and walked over to the turbolift. After stepping in, he could be heard saying, “Crew Quarters!” ========================================================== 12 hours later, Scott’s eyes flung open; and what did he see? The ceiling! He didn’t even remember going to sleep. ‘Wow, I must have been really tired…’ He swung his legs over off the side of the bed, and walked over to his replicator. “Computer: Breakfast.” Scott had programmed his replicator to accept the command ‘Breakfast’ as a bowl of cereal with lots of milk, and a glass of milk. He had also programmed his replicator to make a glass an EXTREMELY LARGE glass. So that’s what he got; a bowl of brown, round pebbles, and an EXTREMELY LARGE glass of milk. He picked them up, walked over to the couch, and set his food down on the table in front of the couch as he sat down. And then, as he did every time after he woke, he began to eat. Like a pig. And in five minutes, that bowl of cereal and that EXTREMELY LARGE glass of milk were gone. He pushed the dishes aside, and sat back. Bending his head forward, he saw the pile of padds which was also on the table. He sat back up and picked up the first of what he counted as 13 padds. ‘13… That can’t be good!’ he thought as he sat back again, with the first padd in hand, and then he continued to think to himself, ‘After these, it’s off to the holodeck!’ So he started to read, and by the second line, he was bored. ‘Well, I’ve got to get these done…’ “Computer: Play music, from my personal database.” And it started to play; music from his personal database. Music from Earth’s 21st century and below. And with music now playing, Scott started to read again, because he could hardly wait to get to that holodeck.

Log, SD: 0408.05 Ensign Neok’el Flek He stood there. That was it; on his first day, all he did was stand there. Although, it seemed the crew of the USS Reaent had adapted to not having someone in the position that Neok’el was now in. Every time something significant popped up on sensors, someone else had reported it and received an answer before Neok’el could even open his mouth. So he stood there, and trying to do something and getting cut off so many times he just stopped and stood there. He stopped trying. And, wouldn’t you know it, no one talked to him. There were no people saying, “Ensign, report!” There was nobody asking, “What progress have you made?” (mainly because no one had asked him to do something in the first place). And, Neok’el found this to be the worst, not a single person asked, “Why are you just standing there? Get to work!” Ensign Flek knew that he shouldn’t just be standing there, doing nothing; but even if he was, which he was, someone should have pointed it out. But instead, no one noticed his work, or lack there-of. Also, no one noticed him! The brand new crewmember and he didn’t get a “Hi,” or a “Hello,” or a “Welcome!” So he stood there, trying not to interrupt the well-oiled machine that was the Reaent crew; the well-oiled and Neok’el-less crew. But then something him; not physically, but mentally. He had a thought…

Search Results for ‘Hunter, Gregor’, in all Federation Databases, ran on July 30, 2380 (0407.30): -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Gregor Hunter. Former StarFleet Commander; Retired in 2350. Last Known Location: Hunter was part of a Federation Civilian Deep Space Exploration Project that departed from Alpha Centuri in 2370. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As Scott stood on the Control Tower, assisting Lt. Cdr. Muon Quark with finding Lt. Cdr. Ethan Hawke, someone hailed the station. Not only did Scott inform Captain Ayers of this, he though to himself, “Amazing! The communications system works!” But the ‘StarFleet Officer’ that showed up on the screen seemed a little iffy, so as per Captain Ayers’ orders, Scott ran a search in all Federation databases for one ‘Gregor Hunter’. Information was found and Scott logged it, and was about to tell the Captain what he had found (since the conversation had ended), but couldn’t. The Captain and Hewitt Demore, together, walked into the turbolift and were gone.

Scott sat on the Control Tower, smelling of alcohol. That extremely rude person in Drankum’s elbowing Scott, and blaming Scott for the spilt drink! The nerve of her to run off, and not apologize to him! Well, maybe that was okay, the station was about to explode, and she looked like an engineer. But it left Scott sitting next to Arthur, who in his own words, “abhors alcohol,” reeking. Also, it was sticky; quite uncomfortable. And when his console went offline, Scott didn’t really feel like getting on the floor to fix it… so it was quite lucky when Mr. Dent accidentally did it for him! ‘Poor Arthur,’ Scott found himself thinking. First, he fixed the wrong console; the console of someone covered in a liquid which he is fully against. Then he almost had a panic attack during the station restart. Although it was safe to say that many other people were dreading it too. The station was already blind, but that didn’t need to be defenceless for 5 seconds. What a surprise when everything came back up and the knee-jerk computer was back at square one. Intermittent power outages and sensors that were most definitely not 100%; sensors that were showing ghosts. And the captain of the UStar threatening to fly into the station if we didn’t dock him; what a vehement person he was. He needed fuel, but Aegis wasn’t accepting any dock requests, and then when he tries to leave in search of another station, Aegis’ computer ends up piping extremely loud music through his com system. That horrible quodlibet not only left Scott sitting on the Control Tower smelling of alcohol, but with a ringing in his ears. It was a ringing that sounded like the fourth movement of Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9. But not only did the UStar and Aegis hear the music, so did the Yorktown. Captain Halloway, simply trying to inform Aegis of a course change, was either privileged or punished with blaring classical music; it could be either depending on his musical tastes. But finally the music stopped, and Scott was left on the Control Tower smelling, ringing, and losing his accumulated sensor scans with every power outage. So far, it was not a very good day... for anyone... in fact, Scott found it to be the worst of the worst.

“Standby, Midshipman!” Not only did this line irritate Scott because of that Lieutenant Demore wasn’t giving Scott any answers, but also because Scott wasn’t a midshipman anymore. “Aye sir, standing by; and I am an ensign, not a midshipman.” But there was no other response. Rolling his eyes, Scott looked back to his console. The sensors were down again, and engineering wasn’t giving any answers. He needed the sensors, since his orders were to not let any ship that couldn’t or wouldn’t be scanned to dock; but it was kind of hard to scan ships with no sensors! And what about the anti-matter fluctuations; what exactly were they? Could they be responsible for the sensor malfunction? Or was it sabotage! Yes! By the same person the killed Paul! ‘You idiot…’ Scott thought to himself. ‘How could Paul be involved with saboteurs…’ But whatever it was, it was quite annoying. The Yorktown. What if this all had something to do with the Yorktown? Perhaps the sensors were sabotaged; then the saboteurs could ambush the Yorktown, and Aegis wouldn’t be able to help. Then Scott realized; Aegis was blind. Anything could be happening out there. Maybe his mother was right to worry, and maybe Scott shouldn’t have hung up on her. “Why am I here?” Scott muttered to himself, sitting on the Control Tower. And he didn’t mean, why am I on Aegis, he meant, why am I on the Control Tower. He wasn’t on duty. He stood up and went to the turbolift. He thought about going to engineering, but thought that it might be somewhat intrusive, especially after Mr. Demore expressed how much he loved hearing Scott ask questions. He had nothing to do in his quarters. But he went there anyway. He entered, walked around in there a while, then left. “What to do…” more muttering. But finally, he had decided, “Drankum’s!” And off he went.

The turbolift doors whipped open and Scott stepped onto the Control Tower. He went over to Station Ops, and took a seat. He tapped the main panel, and looked at the sensor recordings from the previous night. Nothing; well, almost nothing. In the last hour, there had been 3 comets in the sector. “Computer: begin recording, Station Ops log; Station Operations Manager Scott Sabourin.” “After reviewing the sensor records from last night, I have found that there have been 3 comets in this sector, all within the last hour. Something that is rare, but not impossible. When sensors picked up their paths, the two furthest ones were 204km away.” The computer beeps, and Scott presses the flashing button. “Well, that’s weird. A fourth comet was just detected. I’m going to try to trace their paths to a point where they meet; maybe they are all coming from the same place… have to make sure nothing unusual is happening.” “Computer: End log.” Scott, with Arthur Dent’s help, started tracing the comets’ paths. But, of course, the sensors crashed. It wouldn’t make sense for them to stay online. Half an hour later of watching Eli Zhu attempt to fix the sensors, Scott said again, “Computer: begin recording, Station Ops log; Station Operations Manager Scott Sabourin.” “After starting to trace the paths of the comets, the sensors went down. As Mr. Zhu is fixing them, I now have to wait. Hopefully I will hear some news about Paul.” The sensors become worse. More beeping… “Great. Things aren’t getting better. The sensors just dropped down to 40%, and there is no way I’ll be finishing the trace this shift. I can’t imagine these obstreperous sensors being online too soon.” “Computer: End log.” _______________________________________________________________________ After finishing the duty logs, Scott did what little work he could, most of which involved the Yorktown docking at the station in 5 days. He made sure Mr. Dent knew about it, he informed security, and engineering. After 6 hours, it was time to leave. Scott walked into the turbolift and proceeded to his quarters. He walked in, turned the lights on, sat down, and began a personal log. “Computer: begin recording, personal log.” “So far, today has been a somewhat eventful day. There were four comets and a sensor crash. But what worries me is that the comets came from the same general area; and all in the Cardassia sector. Then when we tried to investigate, poof! No sensors! Then there is the Cardassian representative, and my possibly assassinated neighbour. Also, the Yorktown will be docking here in 5 days. I sure hope all the pending danger is gone before then. If there are assassins and killer comets and dead sensors when Captain Halloway and his crew get here, I doubt they will enjoy their stay. But I’m just worrying again. The comets… it was probably one comet; the sensors might have screwed up and made ghosts… ” It was Scott’s birthday, and what a birthday he had had so far. So many things had gone wrong today. But he sat, and he looked at the table in front of the couch. On it, a padd from Midshipman Dionysus, a padd from Doctor Images, and two credit chits from LtCdr Hawke. Things he had received for his birthday. He had thought no one would acknowledge his birthday, or even realize he was there, let alone that he was aging… But after a week and a half on Aegis, he came to learn, that despite their… oddities… the Aegis-folk were quite friendly. “Computer: End log, and get me a com-link with my mother on Earth, and what is the status of my file transfer?” Then he muttered to himself, “There’ll probably be no music, just because its my birthday…” The computer responded as Scott stood up to get some food, “Recording ended. Com-link: working. Status of file transfer: completed two hours ago.” “Oh Thank Goodness! Play music from my personal database and… replicate a bowl of cherries.” The music played. Finally, it came through, and with any luck, it wouldn’t stop after one song. “Com-link active on display 2. Specify: how many cherries?” The computer also came through. He looked at the display, and saw his mother. She had called earlier but Scott was to busy to talk, and he was finally calling her back. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY HONEY!!!” Now his mom came through. “Thanks mom, and computer,” Scott decided to have a little fun with the computer; “I would like 13.48619 cherries!” His mom laughed, and Scott picked up the bowl from the replicator. He sat down again, and indulged himself in both the conversation with his mother and the cherries; especially the .48619 of a cherry sitting on top of all the others.

"There's no bad day that can't be overcome by listening to a barbershop quartet; this is just truth, plain and simple." - Chuck, The World According to Chuck weblog Scott stood there, not knowing quite what to do. He looked at Doctor Images, while the Doctor looked at the dead neighbour, Paul. Just standing there, in quarantine, he was thinking that if only he had done something earlier, that Paul wouldn’t be dead; he was also thinking about how he still hadn’t listened to his music. But then the awkward silence was broken by 3 people at once. Muon Quark started asking Scott questions about the last couple of days, while Images, at the same time, started explaining all the details of Paul’s death. And on top of all this, Hewitt Demore contacted Scott, asking about the USS Vincent’s arrival. He told Demore that he hadn’t been to his post yet, that he was quarantined at a murder scene. Then he listened to Images as he told Muon about the rumour he had heard since his arrival; that the night before Scott arrived, Paul had a “get together”. Scott figured, from the sound of things, that it was a get together with a Dabo Girl (‘and I bet he had music playing, too,’ Scott thought to himself); but from what he heard Images saying, it was really with an assassin. Cutting someone across the back of the neck with a poison laced blade was something Scott didn’t see a Dabo Girl doing. A number of things ran through Scott’s mind. Could this be a terrorist attack from the “Free-Cardassia” separatist group? Was it a personal feud that was taken too far by someone? Maybe it was mistaken identity, and the death was meant for someone else; Paul’s death was an accident. When would he play his music? What if it did have something to do with “Free-Cardassia”? What of the Cardassian representative? If a Cardassian assassin was on the station, the representative could be in danger! ‘Don’t worry yourself, Scott,’ he tried to calm himself down, ‘I’m sure Muon thought of that.’ But no matter what it was, the truth would surface eventually. Whether with the completion of the autopsy or with the end of Muon’s investigation, it would become obvious as to what really happened. But until then, Scott would not feel safe. Always looking behind his back; he wouldn’t be able to sleep, let his guard down in any way, or enjoy his music when he finally got to play it. If Paul’s death was not personal, then anyone could be next; even Scott. After they were let go, he went to the Control Tower, where he found who he considered a friend diligently filling in for him; Arthur Dent. ‘Poor Arthur,’ Scott thought as he noticed that Mr. Dent had fallen victim to the horrible Hold System. But soon enough, it was time to switch shifts. Scott headed to his quarters. Slowly, and nervously. When he entered the turbolift, he made sure there was no one in there that he didn’t know and trust. In the corridors, he looked behind himself every 10 seconds. And when he entered, inspected, and cleared his quarters, he had the computer fully seal all accesses shut. Was he ever being paranoid… He felt better now, especially because after one week of not being able to do so, he could now say, “Computer: Play music, from my own database.” And for the first time in a week he heard on of his favourite songs. He walked up to the replicator, and ordered some dinner. “Computer: Steak, medium rare. And Caesar Salad, with… Lemonade to drink!” Scott grabbed his dinner, sat down on his couch, but didn’t start eating. The music had stopped playing. “Computer, why did the music stop?” And the ‘woman in the box’ said back, “There was only one music file in Scott Sabourin’s database to play.” “Computer, why? I transferred them all!” “Negative, there was an internal error, and the transfer was stopped. Only one file was completed successfully.” Scott closed his eyes, and whispered, “Computer: transfer all of my files on this data storage device into my personal database. And alert me of any errors.” Scott said, inserting the ‘data storage device’. He was irritated, and when he was irritated, or mad, he became sarcastic and meticulous. He sat there, listening to the computer’s response, “Data transfer has begun. You will be notified of any errors, and upon completion.” Scott, in a paranoid, poor, and pretty rotten mood, just sat there, slowly eating his steak and salad, occasionally sipping his lemonade; another lonely night, without music.

- Death is more universal than life; everyone dies but not everyone lives. - A. Sachs Scott wakes up, but not because of the alarm. He didn't set it. It was the terrible odor again. It smelled like a compost heap! Since the day he moved in, all it did was get worse, and now it was virtually unbearable... it was starting to give him a headache; a throbbing headache. Wondering why he hadn't complained any earlier, he sat up on his couch, remembering his finished file transfer from the previous night. He looked down, only to find that he was still wearing his dress uniform from the ceremony... He tapped his combadge, "Midshipman Sabourin to Ensign Ungar." He waited for a reply, but there was none. "Mr. Ungar, please respond." Still nothing, "Paul! WAKE UP!" But there was still no answer. Scott stood up with a sigh... he tapped his combadge again, "Sabourin to Lt.Cdr. Quark" "Quark here." Responded the Ferengi Chief of Security. "The person in the quarters next to mine isn't answering my communications, and there is this wierd smell coming from in there. I don't know what's going on, but I'm heading over to his door; try the buzzer, maybe he's asleep. Just a heads up!" "Acknowledged. Let me know if he doesn't answer." Quark replied, concerned. Scott left his quarters and headed for Paul Ungar's. Quark, in her office doing paperwork, waited to hear if there was a situation or not. Several minutes later, she got her answer. "Sabourin to LtCdr. Quark, I've been at his door for a while now, and he hasn't nswered. I'm kind of worried; I was wondering if you could come down, and override the lock on his door for me." "I'll be right there", came her crisp reply. Muon makes her way to the Ensign's quarters to find Scott leaning against the wall beside the door. She walks briskly up to the door and says, "Computer, override the lock on this door. Authorization LtCdr Quark, hotel echo five nine seven two." The doors slide open, and the two immediately start choking on the smell. But it wasn't just a smell of rot, there was more. It was the "scent of death". They entered, and found Paul laying on the floor. They kneeled down beside him, and Muon pressed her fingers against his neck, checking for a pulse. She looked at Scott with a look that was most definitely not good. "Sickbay: Medical emergency in crew quarters." Muon said after tapping her combadge. But Scott barely heard it, he was just staring at Paul. He was dead, and it was Scott's fault...

Mr. Dent (or Arthur, as Scott was told to call him, by Arthur) finally went to get his physical. It took some bribery by from Scott, and convincing by others, but finally the new midshipman went with Dr. Images and Scott. Dr. Images started pulling out shiny metal things, and Scott left, feeling Mr. Dent would like some privacy. Walking through the corridor, many things ran through Scott’s mind. But one thing stood out more than the others; the change in command. He had only been on the station for a few days now, and already he was losing sleep and having trouble focusing on a single thought. “I should really get some rest…” he said to himself as he walked onto the control tower. Which was odd, because he didn’t remember getting on the turbolift; he was too deep in thought. However, he wasn’t having any trouble focusing on the change in command; well maybe a little. Just under a week on Aegis, and already there was a new commanding officer and a new “chief executive officer”. It wasn’t making Scott feel extremely easy; especially with the recent Cardassian incident. Who knows what was going to happen, and there are new command officers? His mind moved to the “Free Cardassian” separatist group. What if they decided Illopera wasn’t enough, and they moved off the planet; to the station or even another planet. Scott’s worrying was rising again. The slightest thing got to him, especially when he was tired. He was so tired that he didn’t even notice Arthur walk into the Control Tower. They said very little to each other, the odd word now and then, and finally Scott held true to his earlier bribe. He told Mr. Dent that “if you go get your physical, I will show you around the station.” So that’s what Scott did, he showed Arthur around, but didn’t go back to the Control Tower with him; it was time for sleep in his quarters. When he got to his quarters he didn’t go to sleep, however. He had still not unpacked! So he sorted through all his junk for a while, and then… sat down. He now had the chance to load all of his old files into his personal database. He couldn’t wait for the files to transfer; he was getting annoyed by entering his quarters and not having his favourite music to play. While everything was transferring, he looked around. He suddenly thought, “StarFleet is too self-proud.” “Their logo is emblazoned everywhere. It’s on the top of my padd, on my computer terminal, on my door. And they even make us where it on our chests!” He saw his combadge in the mirror. “It’s so irksome!” But like almost everyone, everything seemed irksome to him when he was tired. Then the computers irksome voice came through, “Transfer of files complete.” “Good!” Scott exclaimed his last word as he fell asleep lying there on his couch thinking, “Now all I need to do is make some new friends…,” staring at a picture of his old friends, who were all scattered about the galaxy now.

Ummm ya, I emailed this out when I made it, but I forgot to put it on the boards >.< So here it is, I made it on 0406.06 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Scott stands on the Control Tower, watching the other scary crewmembers walk by him. He runs scans of the nearby vicinity, and there is nothing anomalous or… bad. He decides to take this opportunity to make his first personal log aboard Sky Harbor Aegis. “Computer: Begin recording, Personal Log” “Well,” Sabourin starts his log, “my first hour on board Aegis. Where to begin… Oh I know! The shuttle trip to the station! Dr. Images was in the shuttle too, he stared at me, and then we went to the station. Dr. Pavilion took my physical (who didn’t bite like Dr. Images said she would), and then I went to the Control Tower, where I am now. I met the Chief of Security, Lt. Cdr. Hawke, and in the first minute, managed to get Lt. Cdr. Muon Quark mad at me. Then everyone left, or so I thought. Ensign Escher was still there, I just didn’t see him. I snapped at him, then said hello, and then shook his hand. I hope he isn’t scared of me…” “Computer: End log, and file under my personal database… My first file!” Scott does a little jig, and stops when Ensign Nobody looks at him weird. With nothing to do but scan and read reports (boring!) he thinks back to his days waiting at Starbase 405… He had all his things packed, and was sitting in a chair in his temporary quarters. He checked the time. His transport to Aegis left in 7 minutes. ‘Plenty of time,’ he thought. Then he fell asleep; oops! When he awoke, he checked the time again. He missed the ship; by 28 minutes! So he contacted 405’s Flight Operations Manager, and found out that one Dr. Images from Sky Harbor Aegis had boarded the station not to long ago, and was leaving soon. If Scott wanted to get to Aegis, he had to get on that shuttle. He ran to the nearest turbolift, and made it to the shuttle just in time. He burst in, and caught the Doctor’s attention. Images stared at him, and they got underway.