Tea and sympathy… For the devil

[crispin_xavier001 0]

Crispin worked with Dr. Smith and his crew reviewing scans of the probe. Crispin was working on the chronology and molecular make up of the probe. He had already identified three unknown elements in the make up of the probe, however this would have to wait.

 

 

 

Crispin remembered the old list of science, who, what , where, when and how. It was up to Dr. Smith’s team to answer these. Who could have built this probe? What was it built for? Exploration, destruction, or a greeting from it’s builders. Where was this probe built? This question would have to wait till the other questions have been answered. When was the probe constructed? Crispin knew that more testing and scans would need to done before this question could be answered.

 

 

But most of all, how did it get here? This was what the team he was with, was working on.

 

 

As all these questions ran through Crispin’s mind, he became a little parched and excused himself form Dr. Smith’s team to get something to drink.

 

 

 

As Crispin entered the lounge he saw other crewmates on break and off duty. He moved to the replicator. “Computer, Reglian Ginger Mint Iced Tea.” Before his eyes, light shimmered in the replicator and his drink appeared. He took his drink and sat down at a table facing the view port of the lounge. He made light conversation with the others around him, but there was one thing on Crispin’s mind. “Where the heck are you from and what are you doing here.” Even when he was relaxing, Crispin’s mind was working on something. A trick he learned when he was jailed on Ariel IV. “Ariel IV, lush paradise, ruined by man.”

 

 

There were many things to think about other than the probe, so he gave himself this break to think about those thoughts, as well as the probe.

 

 

 

On Ariel IV Crispin had dated a Caitain and by nature he flirtasous, but he hope that Menia didn’t think he was coming on to strong. But then again, red heads and Caitain were his weaknesses. Crispin almost smiled. “Then again.”

 

 

Crispin’s mind wandered as he drank his tea, but he still thought about the probe, “Where did you come from….”

 

 

Crispin stood up. “Computer, from previous scans of the probe, match trace matter to scans from the Galactic rim.” Crispin left his cup in the matter recycler and made his way back to the Bridge at top speed. Another approach, another chance. This is what Crispin made of his life, not just in the matters of Science, but for pure survival.