“Lieutenant Fairfax…what is the time…to Deep Space 17, present speed?” 

Commander Brian Park tried – unsuccessfully – to stifle a yawn as he asked the chief flight controller the question. It was afternoon on Culver City, and the end of alpha shift dragged on for everyone on the bridge. Weeks at warp five were starting to wear thin on a crew eager to start work in earnest; Commander Park couldn’t keep a command poker face for much longer.

“Fifty-three hours, 47 minutes, 11 seconds, present speed,” Fairfax responded. She turned in her chair, a slight smile on her face. “Sir…you might have asked me that about ten minutes ago. Is this your way of asking ‘are we there yet?’”

Park chuckled. “You got me, Lieutenant.”

“Should I increase speed?”

“Ask me in ten minutes. I might give up and order you to maximum warp.”

“Aye sir, standing by for maximum warp,” she said as she swiveled back.

As if someone below decks sensed the needs of the many on the bridge, the turbolift doors opened and Head Chef Ricardo Ruiz stepped out pushing a small cart and surrounded by the aroma of fresh, hot coffee. 

“Coffee break! Mugs out!” he shouted, like a corner street vendor. 

“Chief, you’re a lifesaver, as always,” Park sighed, holding out his cherished custom Colludian sea glass mug that Chief Ruiz gladly filled.

”Room for cream, Captain?”

”You know what, yes please, and a bit of sugar.”

The chef left three centimeters of room from the top of the mug, as per the CO’s usual, and poured enough cream to leave a half centimeter, then added a generous amount of sugar to make Park’s coffee a sweet treat.

The chef quickly went from station to station, filling other officers’ coffee mugs with freshly-brewed organic suspension. A sense of relief passed amongst the crew, as if the caffeine was intravenously administered and instantly absorbed. Fresh coffee and associated accoutrement were not common aboard California-class vessels, but Commander Park insisted on incorporating such facilities aboard before leaving Starbase Bravo, and the crew consistently showed gratefulness for such a luxury.

An alert from the tactical station interrupted the brief moment of merriment, and Chief Ruiz almost overfilled the last cup of coffee he was filling, startled by the console beeps.

Lieutenant Chelsea Obest avoided a spit-take, and put her mug in the recently-installed cupholder attached to her station. She keyed in the commands to display the alert details. “Captain, incoming transmission from Deep Space 17. Priority One from station commander on a secure channel.”

Commander Park’s eyebrows raised as he took a larger-than-expected gulp from the mug with his name on it. “Interesting. Route that to the ready room, Lieutenant,” the commander requested as he rose from the center chair. “Lieutenant Commander Cullain?” Park pointed his eyes at the XO stationed at Ops, then directed his eyes to the chair. “Back in a minute. Bridge is yours, and don’t drink all the coffee,” he smirked.

”No, sir,” Cullain acknowledged, kindly but curtly. The XO took the seat as Park walked briskly to the ready room door, careful not to slosh the light brown liquid in his mug too vigorously.

==

Brian Park set his glass mug down on the ready room desk as he rounded the side to the chair between the desk and the shelving behind him. The desktop terminal was already beeping with the INCOMING TRANSMISSION notification as he assumed the highly-ergonomic desk chair. Park keyed in commands to confirm the comms channel was secure on his end, and then opened the channel to find Deep Space 17’s CO looking back at him.

”Commander Park here, Commodore Py’Tellan. Nice to meet you, albeit early.”

The commodore nodded to the screen in response. “Indeed, Commander, and I look forward to working together. What is your estimated time to DS-17?”

”A little over two days, present speed.” Park looked away for a moment, then his eyes brightened as he turned to look back at the display. “Do you need us to speed up? The crew could certainly use a shortcut.”

”Well, yes, but not toward the starbase. I’ve been asked to relay new orders to you. There’s a situation close to your position, and Culver City is a prime candidate to lend assistance. I’m afraid putting into port will have to wait a while longer.”

Brian Park smiled, oddly relieved for himself and for his crew that they have some potential excitement and real work coming. “Understood. Frankly, Commodore, that won’t be a problem — the crew’s been itching to get to work on more than just the ship itself. What do we have in store?”

”A joint second contact mission, but from what I understand, it’s starting to turn into search-and-rescue. The planet La’Ktozia had a contingent of first contact crew and diplomats planetside already, but they’ve…gone missing.”

Park’s face went puzzled. “That’s a problem.”

”Starfleet agrees, Commander,” Py’Tellan continued, “and to prevent any complications with second contact, Command is rerouting as many resources as possible. It is advantageous that the Culver City was already on its way to the frontier – La’Ktozia is a small deviation from your original flight path.”

”Advantageous? Is this a ‘you’re the closest ship’ kind of situation?”

”Yes, and there are planetary conditions that necessitate ample small craft rather than transporters.”

Park understood and nodded. “Very well. Anything else I should know?”

”Some cultural details: Command has relayed that the La’Ktozians are a highly food-based people, and the culture revolves greatly about food exchange and trade. There are rumors that the very cultural exercises that surround their culture may be part of the issue here. We need to understand more about what they offer, all while we search for missing officers and diplomats.”

”You have me at food, Commodore.”

”That much I read from your file, Commander. One more thing: the largest rumor is that the most highly-prized item in their culinary sphere is some kind of cheese.”

Park sat up straight. “Cheese, Commodore?”

”Cheese, Commander.”

”How fast are we needed?”

Commodore Py’Tellan tilted her head slightly, intrigued at the Commander’s sudden awakening of interest and alertness. “I would say, Commander, as fast as you see fit. The issue appears to be increasingly urgent, but—“

“Commodore, you can tell Starfleet Command that the Culver City wholeheartedly accepts this mission and she is on her way right now.”

”I take it you like cheese, Commander?”

”Aye, Commodore!”

”Well then. Safe travels to La’Ktozia, Commander. I shall see you at Deep Space 17 when you are done. Py’Tellan out.”

Commander Park sprung out of his office chair, grabbing his coffee mug with enough vitality to slosh a little bit of coffee onto the desk.

==

The ready room doors opened barely fast enough to allow Brian Park to pass through them back onto the bridge. Lieutenant Commander Pix Cullain saw the CO’s lively jaunt in just enough time to vacate the center chair without colliding into him. 

“Captain, you almost hit warp coming out of there. What happened?” Cullain asked, standing just to the side of the command chair and turning to face the beaming Brian Park.

Park set his mug gingerly into his chair’s cupholder, wiping a small drip of coffee from the side. “New orders, Lieutenant Commander: a small detour to lend aid to second contact.” The news increased the demeanor of the entire bridge crew a step higher than the caffeine provision from only minutes ago. “Lieutenant Fairfax, you should have new coordinates available at your station?”

Within seconds, the flight controller’s console beeped and displayed a new target location, ready for selection. “Yes, Captain,” said Haley Fairfax, looking puzzled at the information at her console before turning for confirmation. “La’K…to…zia?”

”Affirmative, Lieutenant. Set a direct course, maximum warp!”

Lieutenant Fairfax smiled, acknowledging this was finally the chance to push Culver City more than leisurely cruising speed. “Course and speed set.”

”Engage!”

The Culver City banked from her original course to turn for the new vector towards La’Ktozia, the streams of cosmic light running faster past the periphery of the viewscreen signaling the heightened speed.

Cullain looked on as the course and speed changed, then turned to Commander Park to satisfy their curiosity. “What’s on La’Ktozia, Captain?”

”Cheese, Pix! We’re going somewhere where there’s cheese!”

Pix Cullain could have sworn they saw Commander Park wave his fists excitedly every time he said the word “cheese.”