Another Morning with Alan Joers

Posted on Sat Oct 12th, 2024 @ 2:09pm by Alan Joers
Edited on on Sat Oct 12th, 2024 @ 2:10pm

2,025 words; about a 10 minute read

Mission: Boys of Summer
Location: Alan Joers Studio, Santiago Bay
Timeline: MD1

ON:

"Ladies and gentlemen, broadcasting across the federation, it's time for the sensational Alan Joers Show!" exclaimed the computer auto-turner, setting the stage for the morning spectacle hosted by none other than Alan Joers himself.

"Yes. It's twenty-two and a half minutes to six this morning on January 15th. As you've heard today, we're expecting a high of 25 degrees around our precious base," Alan paused, carefully studying his notes as he circled the specific areas highlighted by his producer. "Now, if we were back on Earth in San Francisco, the temperature would be around 14 degrees, with a low of 8 overnight. However, the situation is quite different on Vulcan, where temperatures reach the mid-30s during the day and drop to 15 degrees at night. Let's shift our attention back to the local scene. Looking at the city map, we have an approaching front that might put a damper on some of the coastal parties in these areas. We expect it to hit the coastal sectors of Briant, Port Babriel, Crouch Downs, Comb, and Roy Plains. For those tracking such things, they should anticipate approximately 1 to 5 mm of rain."

Alan's office brimmed with activity as he paused, casting a sweeping gaze over the cluttered space. Adjusting his rounded glasses and pushing them up the bridge of his nose, he focused on the notes before him. "Now, let's delve into a truly astonishing development—the unsettling incident involving a tourist shuttle within Martha's Star Belt. This notorious belt, known for its disruptive magnetic interference, has proven to be a formidable challenge for equipment in the best of times. It's also the final resting place of the USS Thredbo, the famed Constitution-class starship amidst the stark beauty of two asteroid clusters. Just imagine any vessel's formidable problem—navigating both the treacherous magnetic disruptions and the dangerous asteroid belt."

Alan continued, his voice tinged with intrigue, "I've reached out to trusted helms operators, and they unanimously echoed one sentiment: 'Alan, we wouldn't even contemplate entering such a sector.' So, the burning question remains: why would anyone dare venture into what could essentially be deemed a solemn war grave? The answer, my friends, lies in the intoxicating allure of prestige. But let's take a brief pause for our sponsors, and when we return, we'll be honoured by the presence of Federation Council member Anthony Paesano. I plan to pose insightful questions regarding the ongoing search efforts."

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***

"Now," Alan spoke, pausing to clear his throat, "Apologies. I'm still recovering from a pesky cold. I recently found an article in last Sunday's Herald that caught my attention. It claimed that jam lacks sufficient sweetness. Well, I must say, that assertion is far from accurate. The sugar content of jam should not be tampered with. However, it seems the article's authors could greatly benefit from a more comprehensive understanding of the subject matter before making such misguided claims."

Alan paused, his eyes fixed on the microphone and computer console. Anthony Paesano, poised to speak through the audio link, awaited his turn. With a slight hesitation, Alan resumed his voice steady but filled with anticipation. "Nevertheless," he continued, his voice unwavering, "let's not allow these trivial matters to overshadow the grand tapestry unravelling before us in Martha's Belt. Anthony, the airwaves are yours. We eagerly await your update on the ongoing search and recent developments."

For a brief moment, the connection crackled, heightening the tension in the room. The silence seemed to magnify the weight of the situation. Then, a familiar voice broke through, exuding confidence and authority.

"Thank you, Alan," Anthony Paesano's voice resonated, commanding attention. "Regarding our search efforts, progress has been relentless. Our determined teams have pressed on undeterred, surmounting every obstacle crossing their path."

Paesano's words lingered in the air, capturing the gravity of the situation and the weight of responsibility on their shoulders.

He continued, his voice unwavering, "In recent developments, I've reached out to Colonel Zachary Aeyers, the esteemed Santiago Bay Commander. Together, we've deployed state-of-the-art Defiant-class vessels equipped with cutting-edge shielding technology. This remarkable advancement allows us to overcome the challenges posed by magnetic interference and radiation, becoming a beacon of hope in our quest to penetrate the depths of the designated search area. Through this revolutionary equipment, we've uncovered intricate details that demand our utmost attention. But as of yet, we haven't found the vessel."

The room was filled with a sense of awe as the team contemplated the power of innovation and the endless possibilities it presented. Anthony's updates breathed new life into their weary spirits. Alan nodded in agreement, fully absorbed in Anthony's account.

"Furthermore," Anthony declared, "we've forged an unprecedented alliance with neighbouring star systems, pooling our collective resources and knowledge. We've even sought the assistance of the Ferengi, renowned for their expertise in trade and negotiation. Additionally, Starbase 74 has dispatched several recently completed vessels from dry dock, further bolstering our search efforts."

Curiosity piqued, Joers interjected, taking a casual sip of his coffee. "How did you manage to secure the cooperation of the Ferengi? I assume there was a substantial transaction involved."

Anthony's voice squeaked as he replied, "Indeed, Alan. We engaged in negotiations, recognizing that the value of additional vessels in the region far outweighed the cost. After all, lives are at stake. While I don't wish to place a price on human lives, let's say a considerable sum of Dilithium exchanged hands. The Ferengi have always had an affinity for hard currency."

Alan chuckled, reminiscing about an encounter of his own. "Ah, the Ferengi and their unique bargaining skills. I once met one ready to trade his sister for a rare Congolese Blackberry Jam jar. He had quite the set of ears and a surprising talent for wielding a hairbrush. But I digress. We must now return to Anthony Paesano. Will you be staying with us, Anthony?"

Anthony's voice was determined as he replied, "It will be my pleasure to remain with you, Alan."

"Good," spoke Alan as he looked at his notes and pressed the button to play the sponsors ad.

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***

"We're back on the air, and joining us now is Anthony Paesano, who will shed more light on the search efforts in Martha's Belt. Anthony, if I'm not mistaken, the life support systems on these vessels aren't specifically designed for deep space travel, is that right?" Alan's hand gently caressed his chin, his eyes fixed on the console that contained Anthony's incoming voice, eager to hear his reply.

"Indeed, Alan. These vessels are of civilian origin and not constructed according to Federation specifications. Compared to our fleet vessels, they're more like canoes," Anthony responded, sounding as though he had anticipated this question. "Currently, there aren't specific regulations for constructing these vessels in proper shipyards."

"So, you're suggesting that anyone with enough credits could acquire a vessel like this?" Alan inquired, raising an eyebrow. "Frankly, this industry should be regulated. Additionally, how is it possible for them to venture so close to a restricted area of space? Isn't approaching the wreckage considered a criminal offence?"

"That's correct, Alan. Even you?" chuckled Anthony, "Look, ten individuals are currently on this venture. One is the esteemed businessman Michael Weatherly that of Weatherly Bitters."

"Mick is on there. I'm shocked! Oh my God," exclaimed Alan. "The other day, I enjoyed some delicious jam tarts at the Porter Bellow Cross. They had excellent French and Polish women. I mean tarts," he reminisced, his mind wandering back to that evening of jamming with his friend Michael.

"Yes, indeed. Michael is on there, accompanied by his 10th current partner, Octavia Olton-Con," Anthony explained. "However, these names are merely other businesspeople who wanted to check this off their bucket list. The company charges a minimum of 3 million credits per ticket."

Three million!" Alan's eyes widened as he hastily typed the number. "That's quite a price tag. You've given me at least three million reasons to consider not doing this daring adventure. Anthony, is there anything else you'd like to share before we wrap up?"

"I want to reassure our listeners," Paesano's voice emanated with unwavering determination, "that our unwavering mission is to rescue the individuals on the trapped vessel within the treacherous Martha's Star Belt. Despite the magnetic disruptions and intricate asteroid clusters that present formidable challenges, we tread cautiously, keeping in mind the lives and sacrifice of the brave souls who served aboard the USS Thredbo."

A moment of silence she followed, a collective reflection on the magnitude of the task and the sacrifices made by those who had ventured into the unknown before them.

Paesano concluded, gratitude lacing his words, "I extend my heartfelt appreciation to all those involved, whose unwavering dedication and unyielding determination propel us forward."

"Thank you, Anthony. My listeners will truly appreciate your perspective, and it has been a pleasure to have you on the show," Alan expressed his gratitude warmly.

"It's been a pleasure, Alan," spoke Anthony as his transmission ended.

"That was Federation Council Member Anthony Paesano, shedding light on the ongoing search and rescue operation in Martha's Belt, near the wreckage of the USS Thredbo. As we near the top of the hour, it's time for the latest news updates. But don't go anywhere just yet! After the news, we have an enticing segment lined up, where we'll explore hidden culinary treasures that offer the most exquisite bare-backed jam and tart delights. Trust me; you won't want to miss this mouth-watering segment. So, stay tuned!" Alan enthusiastically declared, eager to conclude his transmission and seamlessly transition into the Federation news.

OFF

 

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