One of the benefits of routine was familiarity, and with that familiarity came the knowledge of the little things like where to go, where to find lists, where to find tasks, and just be able to get down to a task without too much preamble.So every four days Ginsh the Science officer became Ginsh the relief volunteer, he found his way though the more industrial area of the starbase to the one of the cargo bays set aside for the ongoing operation. Although not the same as the one he went to last time, that being at capacity of crewmembers working within, it was as was often the case with Starfleet laid out and organised in the same way. As such he was able to find his way to the tasking list, navigate it for something he could do today, solo and relatively unskilled, obtain step by step instructions, and where to locate equipment and supplies. 

For today he would be making up care packages, not the official name of course, but the official name was often longer than it needed to be in the Telarites opinion. The packages contained; Water pouches, with added electrolytes. The trusty ration packs. For extreme cases, nutritional supplement powders, or pastes for infants. A heat/cooking source. Given the nature of the items, Ginsh surmised that at least some items would not be stored close to another item, calling up the manifest for the cargo bay in question, confirmed his assumption.  

The afternoon would effectively be a giant scavenger hunt, only for grown academics of a prestigious exploratory organisation, the thought was enough to put a wry smile on Ginsh’s face, as he paced across to the first stack followed until he found and end, turned about the end and made a dozen paces down. Just below waist height were a number of crates marked carryall. An idea was now forming, he’d spotted a place he could use as a perch to make up said packs on his walk in. Now six sets of items including the bag. Could mean two arm fulls of carryalls back to perch. Then a single round trip for each other item, returning with fully laden carryall, spend the rest of the time putting the care packages together, might even squeeze in a hot beverage or two. 

Just over an hour later, Ginsh sat cross legged on an oversized crate, a partially filled caryall in fron of him, to his left and on the floor sat another three holding, water pouches, nutritional supplements one powders, one pastes, respectively. Set slightly above on a crate two more with ration pack, and heat/cooking sources respectively. Positioning himself in a way all five were in reach, it was a case of select one of each, package neatly, close up, deposit on the growing pile to his right. 

He sipped from the mug, set it down and leaned over picking up the packets, the ones  designed for those who had gone long enough without food to need something tailored for the body to kickstart the most basic process as putting said food to good use. It baffled and angered him that such a thing had to be thought of, kept on hand in such quantities, or worse still included in packs made for the desperate. Paolo was wrong, having this task to do only served to affirm his personal convictions, his thought train was interrupted.  

“Sir, where did you find the water packs?” The front most pair of crewmen, guiding a anti-grav sled with two drum-like containers loaded, asked with a slightly eager expression. 

“Aisle Three-Bee, but you have to go up Aisle Four and come back in yourself of course, it’s anything but straightforward.” There was a hint of offhandedness to the remark which he let hang and then went on to add. “they’re about a quarter of the way into the stack, torso height.” As they went to move off Ginsh asked. “Any chance of having eight pouches off you, as your passing.”  

“Certainly, sir.”  The one at the front, unlatched the drum, pulled out a one handful and then a second, handing them off to Ginsh. 

“Much obliged,” Ginsh replied, placing four pouches and sliding them across like a hand of cards, then another four below. He zipped up the carry-pouch on the makeshift workbench, and dropped it over the right side. Glancing up to see the rear most of the pair pointing animatedly, with the echoing of ‘hard left, the officer said’ just about reaching Ginsh, he grinned to himself and reached for his mug once more before starting the next pack.