Part of Starbase Bravo: Artefacts of the Frontier

In the Interests of Confidentiality

Sector Hotel-Turquoise (Deck 371, Section Fourty-Five Charlie)
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A pleasant shudder ran down Log’s spine as he dug into his right ear with the tip of a long index finger, reaching to scratch an itch that niggled deep within the narrow passage. His mother had always warned against the nasty habit, lest he puncture an eardrum with his unusually stick-like digits.

“An acceptable risk Mother,” Log sighed, turning the large red ear defenders in his other hand as he made one last stretch for the deep-seated itch. Another shudder ran down his spine as the frustrating irritation disappeared under the assault of his finger. It didn’t pay to have an itch beneath the ear defenders, especially when he wasn’t sure when he would next be able to take them off.  Satisfied the offending patch had been dealt with, at least temporarily, the young Tellarite placed the large red earmuffs over his wide head, prepared himself for the worst and pressed the door entry button.

Inside the office a very grateful Counselor heard the chime over the constant talk from her computer terminal and rushed to the door to release it to someone outside whom she hoped was an Engineer. Seeing a body in a Gold Uniform that was as short as she was and noting the ear defenders, Lieutenant Luna Black came to the conclusion that her request for someone who could ‘keep their ears closed’ had been answered.

“Engineering?” She asked the Tellarite just to be sure.

Log tilted his head in confusion as the young woman over the threshold continued to speak with inaudible words, his stout figure swimming in the silence offered by his ear defenders. The low static of his own body hissing away as Luna repeated herself several times.

Focus Log, Focus. His father’s never-ending encouragement was present even now.

En… Jur…. neer…

A bolt of clarity struck the young man with the sound of crashing drums “Yes! Engineering!” he shouted, his own baritone echoing like a cannon beneath the large red auditory deprivation domes that were slung over his ears. He flourished a hand over his mustard-coloured shoulders by way of confirmation and waved the grey-cased tool kit before announcing himself purposefully, taking care to enunciate each word like teaching a babe the basics of speech. “I. Am. Ensign. Log!”

The somewhat shy Lieutenant recoiled at the shouting, taking a couple of steps back, an expression of alarm on her face. She looked on with curiosity at the mime that confirmed Log was who she thought he was. Meanwhile, a patient’s voice spilled out into the corridor.

“So we’re all standing there and the Commander is giving this briefing and I really really really need to fart…”

Luna’s alarm morphed into concern as her eyes rested on the malfunctioning recorder spewing a very personal story into the room and through into the corridor. She waved Log into the office.

Like I just couldn’t hold it, so I thought maybe I could let it out real quiet? Like I had no choice and I couldn’t interrupt a Commander…”

“Come in, come in!”

“It’s the console right?” Log announced, taking a step towards the semi-circular desk and pointing at it purposefully. “It’s announcing people’s confidential information?” He looked back towards the lieutenant, seeing her brow furrowed in confused alarm. Assuming her own hearing to be compromised he began to motion with his arms, the kit flailing like a medieval maul in his hands as he waved awkwardly. Her confused look remained, framed by her long black hair. Think Log, when you can’t speak… write! Slinging the kit quickly onto the table Log rifled through his myriad of unorganised equipment. An avalanche of spare isolinear chips tumbling from the open case as hyperspanners and sonic drivers were tossed to the wayside until finally, his hands struck rectangular grey gold.

Lifting the PADD from the case he pressed the small power button, the screen flicking back to the most recent entry, a short missive in glowing orange text, his work order. Proud of his unknowingly unnecessary solution he held the PADD in one hand, his other pointing back and forth between the small rectangle and the console, a wide grin spreading on his face.

“Yes! It’s…” Luna nodded but quickly realised the futility of trying to speak to Ensign Log given the circumstances and instead copied his brainwave, reaching for a PADD on her desk.

…but it just wasn’t quiet at all, it sounded like a rusty door hinge and everybody just looked at me like it was so obvious it was me, he stopped talking and everyone just stared…”

Careful to remove the notes from the screen about a different patient that the previous counsellor was fairly convinced had Narcissistic Personality Disorder Luna quickly wrote a note on the screen and moved toward Log so she could hold it up for him to see, but camouflaged against the carpet one of Log’s tumble of chips was caught underfoot. Luna froze as it made a loud crack the Tellarite probably hadn’t heard through the ear defenders.

“…so now my entire shift calls me ‘Squealer’. Even the Commander, it’s horrible I think I’m going to have to apply for a transfer…”

Luna’s large eyes only served to amplify the sorrowful look of apology she adopted before carefully toe-ing around the rest of the floor candy and holding the PADD for Log to see.

‘Yes it’s spewing out confidential session recordings and I can’t make it stop.’

Log’s eyes widen in acknowledgement before a quick series of button presses from his pudgy fingers on his own PADD issued another message.

Someone in archaeology opened a box that said it would ‘reveal the truth’.” Log motioned to the surrounding room and the invisible confessions that filled the airspace before offering a knowing look and returning back to the messaging device. A few seconds later he slid the note across the desk towards Luna, chuckling as he returned his attention to the engineering kit.

“When I left the lab, the Klingon security officer was revealing his secret butterfly tattoo.”

Equipment and parts continued to tumble from the Poppins-esque case as he lifted more tools from their precariously balanced stack until finally, he pulled a long tapered device out with a satisfied smile.

“I call this my magic wand.” He announced loudly to the room, now filled with the teary confessions of the officer who would likely have to travel to the far reaches of the Federation to escape their embarrassment. He flourished it dramatically, imitating a move he had seen Aynesh perform in their fantasy holodeck adventures a hundred times.

Luna took a step back to avoid the enthusiastic flourished whipping of Log’s wand.

Crunch.

“Dammit!” Luna looked down at more cracked pieces of isolinear chip under her feet. “Sorry,” she offered this time verbally, hoping the word was universal enough to be recognised by lip-reading. On the recording, a Counselor was now telling ‘Squealer’ that they should stick with their current post and make this a character-building exercise, an opportunity to learn to laugh at herself. Luna tried to ignore it, praying she never had to meet Squealer, whoever that was, and wrote another message to the coiled-up Ensign who seemed about to spring into action.

‘Please, make it stop’

After she was sure he had seen the plea Luna discarded her PADD on the coffee table adjacent and started picking up bits of Log’s bag-clutter that were now finding new homes in the carpet of her counseling office.

Revealing the base of the console with a flourish that would make both Siegfried and Roy jealous, Log thrust the metallic wand into the geometric circuitry, causing a sudden and unwelcoming screech to emanate from the grey table’s inbuilt speakers. Unphased by the banshee scream thanks to his large red ear defenders Log continued to prob and twist with the probe, rephasing and repatching isolinear circuitry and ODN relays between broken confessions that continued to announce themselves to the room.

“…sounded like a balloon…”

“…made the dogs in veterinary science lab go mental…”

“…the deck officer asked me if I needed a new uniform…”

The screech grew louder with each passing syllable, rattling Luna’s teeth and threatening to slice through the bulkheads before eventually soft silence fell on the room, the air only echoing with the high-pitched scream. Log turned back to the Lieutenant, a wide smile across his face as he presented the now silent desk expectantly.

Log didn’t need to remove his ear defenders to work out that his ministrations had been successful, the look of relief on Luna’s face said it all. She stood from her recovery mission, her fists piled with pieces of paraphernalia. Hoping beyond hope the Recorder never did that again (especially the screeching which her ears were still ringing from) she reached forward with both hands and deposited the small pile of tools and chips and gadgets into Log’s tool bag.

The young Tellerite accepted the shards with a quizzical look before offering the tool kit up to collect the tiny slithers of rainbow, his mind racing through their possible contents. Satisfied that there was nothing he couldn’t replicate again later; he offered a smile, unceremoniously swept the tools into his waiting bag and finally slid the small grey tablet into the kit, closing it with a click that sounded like thunder in this new silence. Turning back to face Luna he offered her a tall thumbs up with his wrinkled thumb as he slung the bag over his shoulder.

“These are great! I didn’t hear a thing!” He shouted loudly as he tapped the large domes over his ears, forgetting they were now wholly unnecessary. “No embarrassing reveals today!”

Luna managed a smile and nod after recoiling from the blast of Tellarite glee.

“Thank you,” she mouthed in an over-accentuated fashion before seeing the Tellarite out of her office, his ear defenders still in place as he moved into the corridor.

The new-found silence of the Counseling suite was stark. Finally free of noise the Counselor crossed to the replicator and replicated a cup of tea which she cosseted in her hands, letting the warmth permeate through her fingers. Taking a seat on one of the couches her gaze crossed the cosy-feeling space and she revelled in her favourite state of being; alone, and in silence.