You May Go To Hell, I Shall Go To New Texas

Posted on Sat Dec 1st, 2018 @ 1:21am by Commander Rita Paris & Lieutenant Commander Sonak & Lieutenant Asa Dael & Ensign Avendar Jurot & Lieutenant Alex Sexton & Baroness 2nd Class Schwein von Alcott

Mission: Escaped Pantheons
Location: New Texas system, Planet Houston, near the Galactic Core
Timeline: 2395

The messages had gone out in advance, everyone had known where they were going and why, and they all knew to meet on the flight deck at 07:00. The Gryphon class runabout Thor had been a good, solid and sturdy ship the last time Rita had taken her out. Besides, she wanted to see the Baroness blush at the name. This was a fact-finding mission, but she'd like to have good sturdy transportation if things got weird. Which, seeing as they were going down to investigate multiple god sightings, it was practically a guarantee.

"This is a fact-finding mission," Commander Paris stressed, as she had not authorized MACO armor nor heavy weapons for this mission, although phasers were expected as were tricorders. "The locals have been summoning gods, apparently, so let's figure out how and analyze the phenomenon. There is still the underlying reason of why this is all happening, who may be behind it and what we can do to affect the situation- or if we should. We're going to go chasing into that energy ribbon, which seems to have a rather improbably large vessel within it, which is liable to be polluted with these godlike beings. So let's head for Planet Houston and gather as much data in the controlled setting."

"Which reminds me- Texas is less a state of the union than a state of mind. With that in mind, these colonist will likely be fond of firearms and personal freedoms, they will be quick to jump to judgment, and they will be very, VERY proud of themselves for being New Texans. So be polite, remember they might be quick on the draw, and they have gods mingling in with this recreation of a chunk of my homeworld located here at the galactic core. Talk about sentences you really never thought you'd say in a mission briefing<" she admitted, shaking her head. "Any questions?"

“My understanding of Texan culture is there is an expectation of courtesy. Do we have anything to offer our hosts? Perhaps a small food item? I am given to understand pecans are in high demand. I recommend replicating some on the way down to be given as a gesture of goodwill, if this is acceptable ma’am," Dael said tentatively.

"Can't hurt," Paris relied, nodding. "Go hit a replicator and make that happen, Doc. Double-time. Any other questions or input before we load up?"

"Doctor! Replicate some smoking herbs as well! The good kind!" The Baroness shrugged as she called after Doc Dael. Looking back to Commander Paris, she looked curious. "The database said that a large number of the population is descended from nomadic Earth peoples and often hold true to their ancestral ways. They might enjoy some good weed, ja?"

"Excellent point, Baroness." Tapping the modern Starfleet insignia on her left breast, Paris called out, "Paris to Doctor Dael- please replicate a healthy amount of marijuana in a smokable form as well, if you please. Trading with the natives may be the order of the day." Looking around, Paris smirked a little. "So unless anyone else has any suggestions, let's load up. Baroness, you're my copilot on this one. Let's get her warmed up and off the deck in 5."

Asa jogged to a replicator and came back with a few bags of pecans in parcels. They also retrieved some marijuana edibles in the form of chocolate bars and bags of about 1 ounce of the raw product.

“I don’t recommend opening the bags unless you are ready for a whiff,” the doctor opined, “but I did get what is colloquially known as the ‘OG’ strand and also ‘Girl Scout Cookies’ for increased euphoria. The third kind is straight sativa, and the fourth straight indica. Everything is labeled in the bag.”

With that said, the doctor handed a parcel to each person.

Sonak spoke next.

"A word of caution. According to historical and sociological databases, people of this culture on Earth were of a strong, proud demeanor and much at ease with weapons, somewhat reminiscent of Klingons. We might face some mild forms of provocation as much out of wariness as for testing our character and intent. I would recommend no show of aggressiveness but to stand firm and stoic while showing openly our weaponry without any suggestion of duplicity or that we want to use it... unless provoked. As for klingons, although they are probably much less aggressive, showing weakness might be just as bad as open hostility. We must also keep in mind that this culture made also much use of alcohol. Signs of behavior-altering intoxication must be watched for. But in this matter, an offering of such substances would be seen as a gesture of friendship."

"Perhaps, but I doubt synthahol would be what they are expecting," replied Dael.

"No, but we do have a rather large supply of real alcohol aboard." Offered the Baroness, pulling out her civilian PaDD and pulling up an inventory. "Cargo bay three, crate nine one seven... If we could borrow a few bottles from that, I don't think anyone will mind."

"Whiskey? Well done, Baroness. I'll finish the preflight, you know where the inventory is, please secure then requisition." Paris dropped into the pilot's seat smoothy. "We certainly won't take off without you. Does anyone else have any bright ideas to contribute, because so far they've all been winners."

At that Paris paused, her finger hovering over a panel. "Wow, how very euro-caucasian of me. I'm going to Texas to meet the settlers bringing fire water, peace pipe and tasty nuts. If we get some colorful bead I think we hit a racist quadfecta."

"Should I replicate some polio blankets on the way down?" Schwein asked with a smile and a wink as she headed out to grab the whiskey. She would only be gone for about three minutes total since she knew right where to look.

"There are some similarities in our approach as that of early Terran continental colonists," Sonak agreed; "but while they were doing so to exploit the natives, we are doing it to ensure peaceful first contact and help them against a common threat. We will not establish a trading post there to get furs and gold out of mirrors and glass beads, let alone infect them to commit genocide and appropriate their land."

A giggle burst out of the pilot's seat. "You... haha! You raise a valid point, Mister Sonak. Trading post, ahhh. Mister Sexton, you are on the away team because of your skill as an investigator. While we play it loud, go to ground and see what you can figure out is going on that they don't want to show us, understood?"

"Of course." He was finally getting the chance to go undercover, if that's what you could call blending in and making light inquiries. I'm going to love this, Alex thought to himself, hoping this Texas wasn't like the one he knew of with cultural differences that would not allow a male of his color to poke around unnoticed. He looked up just as the Counselor came on board.

Counselor Jurot boarded the shuttle. "I will never understand the Terran obsession with firearms." She shrugged. "In any case, this will be an interesting mission."

"Indeed," acknowledged the chief science officer. "Humans still have to find their own way to curb their innate violent tendencies. But at least there is the stun setting now. One small step for Man..."

"I'll admit it, I am feeling the urge to shoot someone. But my phaser is set on stun, so here's to the evolution of the human race." Rita Paris spun the pilot;s seat around to face the rest of the cabin. "That's it, preflight checks are done. I've got a few systems running diagnostics just so I had something else to do. Flying one of these things is just so simple it's almost boring."

Two security officers arrived in MACO gear, piling into the back seats of the runabout. Paris offered them a snappy salute. "Mister Palmiotti, Miss Connor, glad you could join us. I appreciate your services in guarding our ride. Is Mister Bunche not joining us?"

"Tellurite flu, ma'am. He's in isolation in sickbay, so just us this time, unless you wanted three officers for the mission?"

"The two of you in full gear should be sufficient for anything short of an invasion. I have confidence you'll keep the Thor safe for us. All right, where are our errant landing party members? I'm ready to kick the tires and light the fires!" Paris quoted, the phrase an anachronism in her day that was just a pilot's slang on Earth that had survived. Which of course meant nothing to the rest of the galaxy, except to make the human girl from Earth sound like a weird alien on the Federation starship.

That's when Schwein got back with a case of booze, the bottles clinking together. "I come bearing enough fire water to cure what ails you, ya?"

Sonak for his part sat at the co-pilot seat to use the sensors of the shuttle to scan the surrounding space and where they were going.

"Then let's saddle up and ride, cowpokes," Paris cheerfully spun around, even as she realized that probably no one got that one either, except for maybe Sonak. Tapping the controls, she raised the gangplank and sealed the hatches, engaged life support, brought the passive sensors online and energized the nacelles. Reaching over, she pointed her finger to leave it parked on the comm microphone.

"Hera control, this is Away Team One in runabout Thor. We are 5X5 and goin' to Texas."

Lifting her finger off the button, the reply came immediately. "Runabout Thor, you are cleared for launch. The stars at night look big and bright."

That gave Paris a laugh that turned into a muttering chuckle as she guided the runabout off the flight deck and into space. "There's the rub of old age. Nobody gets your jokes anymore."

Sonak certainly didn't as he followed standard procedure to the letter.

"All clear; landing target is on main monitor. Scanning; nothing to report at this time."

Deep in the heart of Texas thought Sexton to himself!