Ensign T’Xof was on a late night security patrol. Nursing a cup of Vulcan tea (hot) in one hand, the other folded into the small of her back, she walked at a steady pace, peripheral vision alert. A minor fracas at a bar on the upper promenade level had, somewhat disappointingly to T’Xof’s mind, ended in tearful reconciliation between the two highly inebriated medical technicians. It was not a demanding test of her abilities as a constable of the law.
Nor had her powers of criminal investigation been heavily taxed on this shift. A similarly soused sensor diagnostic crewman had pressed on her for help in locating the hat which belonged to his companion, reportedly a six foot Earth creature known as a “rabbit” visible only to him; she had concluded that rather than engage in an extensive search for said hat, she should simply tell him she had received reports of it being seen in the vicinity of his sleeping quarters and that perhaps he should investigate for himself. A subsequent check in with the station logs confirmed he was now, as humans put it, sleeping it off.
It was not that T’Xof wished for anarchy and violence to break out during her shift, of course. Much like a well ordered resolution of kal-toh, she appreciated the order of a calm, orderly, lawful shift. But she had not trained at Starfleet Academy for four years to direct humans unable to handle the freedom of starbase leave responsibly to their quarters. She allowed her path to drift from the promenade circuit towards a turbolift, and was soon on the upper spacedock level. There was not much calm or orderly here amid ships arriving, departing, or being seen to by repair crews; whether or not all was lawful demanded further inspection.
As she was walking past one of the large bay windows that looked out on the bustling upper spacedock. A very tall Andorian she was walking behind grunted and abruptly turned back around and almost walked right into X’of. They didn’t collide but Traan noticed he had startled the Ensign enough to cause her to spill a bit of her tea.
“Ah wow, sorry about. I should be more careful.” Traan had realized he had forgot a few padds with info he needed for his meeting with the civilian dock workers.
It did not say much for T’Xof The Great Detective and her powers of perception that, while snooping around the station for anything out of place, she did not notice an enormous blue man stumbling into her until too late. She looked down at her stained uniform, reconsidering the merits of her tea-in-hand approach to patrol duty.
“No apology necessary, sir,” she muttered, having taken a quick glance at the rank pips adorning the Andorian’s collar. “I should have been more observant.” The words were as much self-mortification as genuine apology.
“No, no, its totally my fault. I’m just rushing around without due care and attention. I just realized I had forgot a few padds I need for a meeting I’m on my way to. I feel terrible, let me atleast get you a new cup of…tea is it?” Traan replied.
“No need at all,” T’Xof insisted, as firmly as she dared, in the face of a superior officer. “I only hope this does not make you late for your meeting.” She pronounced the word late as one might some sort of fairly virulent disease; like most Vulcans, T’Xof was scrupulously punctual and regarded failure to respect another’s time as a deeply wounding act of ill grace.
“Ensign T’Xof, Security,” she said, by way of introduction. “I was just about to patrol the Spacedock to ensure there are no irregularities.” A slight flicker of her eyebrow. “Other than spilled tea.”
“Lieutenant…Commander Traan, Head of Repair Docks and acting Deputy Director of Shipyard Operations. And you won’t have to look too hard to find irregularities in the Spacedock, its always busy, and where there’s civilian freighter crews you’re bound to find some criminal activity. Uh, well sorry about the tea, but you’re right I should probably get going, already late as it is. Pleasure meeting you Ensign.” Traan said as he began walking back towards the cluster of turbolifts, he was still getting used to introducing himself by his new rank.
“And you, sir.”
T’Xof nodded shortly in acknowledgement, then set out for the nearest civilian freighter in dock, ready to follow up on Traan’s advice.
Bravo Fleet


