USS Surefoot, Deck 1, Mess Hall/Lounge, 0800 Hours:
Commander T'Varik stood beside the display screen at the far end, her voice at a level that made no concession for any of the assembled cadets who might not have been giving the First Officer their full attention. "We are currently in orbit around Planet L-802/4, designated as Luntanu by the original survey ship in this sector forty-two standard years ago. It is Class-M, possesses two small natural satellites aiding in tidal generation, and is currently uninhabited by indigenous intelligent lifeforms, but six years ago the Federation Archaeology Council established an ongoing research outpost here following the discovery of the ruins of an ancient civilisation."
She paused, before continuing. "This is all you will be told; any onboard data about the planet has been encrypted. The rest, you must discover yourselves, during your first Away Mission. Each of the three cadet squads will employ one of the Surefoot's Type-6 shuttles to travel to pre-selected coordinates on Luntanu, set up individual base camps, and conduct initial scientific surveys. The depth and focus of these surveys will be at the discretion of your Squad Leaders, but I expect the final reports to adhere to the Academy standards as detailed in the acronym FACT: Factual, Accurate, Concise and True.
You will have 24 standard hours from the time of your launch to perform your mission, return and provide me with your completed reports. You will be responsible for selecting and requisitioning the supplies and equipment you will need for the duration of your mission; once you leave the Surefoot, you will not be permitted to request anything more."
At the front of the cadets, the three Squad Leaders - Sasha Hrelle, the human leader of Alpha Squad; Jared Miro, the Argelian leader of Beta Squad; and Falok, the Vulcan leader of Gamma Squad - shot glances at each other, but remained rapt to T'Varik's continued briefing.
"Although this is a primarily scientific Away Mission, the other contingents of your respective Squads - Command, Flight Control, Security, Medical and Engineering - will be expected to fully assist, as well as demonstrate proficiency in their respective fields. Are there any questions?"
Sasha raised a hand. "How much supervision will we be receiving?"
"None, Ms Hrelle. You will operate without any intervention from your supervisors, or any access to the main computers of the Surefoot. I will be awake and available to receive scheduled status updates or respond to any emergency calls over the following 24 hours."
"Twenty-four hours, Commander?" Jared asked with a teasing grin. He was tall, slim, dark, well-built, with drawn-black coal hair and full lips. "Will you be living on coffee the whole time? That hardly seems per standard operating procedure."
Sitting beside T'Varik, Captain Hrelle was leaning back in his chair, absently stroking the fur on the tips of his leonine ears and allowing his second in command to control the proceedings. Now, the Caitian spoke up. "Are you volunteering to remain behind and assist the Commander? Because I'm sure we can arrange that."
Jared paled and lost his slyness. "No, Sir."
"Vulcans are capable of remaining at optimum efficiency for an indefinite number of days, Mr Miro," T'Varik proceeded dryly. "And without the need for caffeine-based products. While I remain on standby for updates and emergencies from yourselves, the permanent crew of the Surefoot will be engaged in a number of other missions, including the retrieval and transport of archaeological relics from the outpost, delivery of supplies and communications, and running medical and diagnostic check-ups of the outpost's crew and their equipment."
On Sasha's left, Cadet Falok, a dark-skinned Vulcan male, straightened up slightly. "When will our mission commence?"
"Your Away Mission begins on Stardate 35257.77 - in 1.91 hour's time. You must have everything you need onboard your respective shuttles and be on your way by then."
He raised an eyebrow in response. "Gamma Squad has only just completed their duty shift. As you have already stated, Vulcans can operate without sleep, but I am the only Vulcan. The schedule would appear to put my squad at a disadvantage."
T'Varik raised her own eyebrow. "It would be illogical to assume that all Starfleet missions would be subject to your work schedule, Mr Falok, unless of course you are requesting your Squad have less time for the exercise, in order to have a nap?"
Aware of but ignoring the titters from the other cadets, Falok straightened further. "That will not be necessary, Commander."
"Excuse me, Ma'am," Jared spoke up again. "Is this a competition between the squads? I mean, will there be points and a prize and-"
"I am aware of the components of a competition, Mr Miro," T'Varik noted archly. "I had believed the pursuit of knowledge and experience would be a reward in and of itself. However, if making it a competition would be a further incentive, I will assess each squad's overall performance based on their adherence to Starfleet procedure, the completion of the objectives, the quality and quantity of the data gathered, and the final report compiled. As for a prize... Captain?"
Hrelle folded his hands on his belly and raised his muzzle up, as if baring his furred throat to the group. Then he snapped back to stare at them with his dark bronze feline eyes. "How about the winning squad gets an extra week's worth of replicator credits, to be used individually or as a group, for food, goods or a combination of both?"
T'Varik nodded. "That would be acceptable."
"Oh, and we'll lift the restrictions on replicating intoxicants," he added.
The Vulcan ignored the cheers from the cadets. "That will not be acceptable. Starfleet Academy Regulation 118: 'Cadets before their fourth year of study are forbidden from consuming legal intoxicants, either on or off Academy grounds, regardless of age or legal status, except in accepted situations involving cultural or religious activities.'"
Hrelle looked to the cadets, shrugging. "Sorry, kids."
T'Varik returned to the group. "Your mission begins in 1.86 hours. I would strongly advise you not to procrastinate. Dismissed."
The cadets became an excited mass of questions, declarations, boasts, promises and denials. Sasha's brain was moving at Warp Ten, as she began planning ahead, thinking about all those times she had practised for missions like this.
It would help if she wasn't distracted by the enticing Jared, who was smirking. "Your Dad didn't try very hard to get the alcohol restrictions lifted, did he?"
Sasha frowned; any criticism of her father immediately got under her skin, even from someone as... attractive as Jared. "It's not his fault, T'Varik has final say over the cadets."
"I for one agree with the judgement," Falok noted, drawing closer to join his fellow Squad leaders. "Intoxicants would be a waste of replicator credits."
Jared looked up at him. "I bet your squad thinks differently. Don't Vulcans ever get drunk?"
"Vulcans do possess potables to commemorate special occasions. However, the concept of intentionally ingesting consumables to deliberately lower judgement levels and promote loss of inhibition is highly illogical."
"Sounds like you're missing the point of getting drunk."
"Very possibly. I will however bask in such wilful ignorance." He nodded to each of them. "I wish success for both of you."
As he left them, Jared smiled at Sasha. "We have to find something to loosen him up a little, if only for the sake of his squad." Then he frowned. "No point in talking to you, your head's already at the Quartermaster's Office. Good luck, Sash." Then he leaned in and whispered, "I'll see you before we go."
Sasha caught a strong whiff of cologne from the cadet, and felt her temperature rise, before she was thankfully distracted by the approach of the rest of Alpha Squad.
Neraxis slapped her boisterously on the back, the Bolian's blue face bright with excitement. "Well, Boss, why are we standing around here? Shouldn't we be, I don't know, getting ready to leave?"
"We already are," Sasha murmured, looking around to make sure none of the other squad members were nearby, as she formed her own into a circle, her voice low. "Jonas, this week you were working on the diagnostics for the auxiliary sensor array in the secondary hull. You set up a link to your work PADD to continue in your off-duty time. Do you still have that link?"
Engineering cadet Jonas Ostrow, a short, slight human male with wide doe eyes and silvery hair, nodded. "Yes, why?"
She indicated Giles Arrington, standing on her right. "If Giles heads down to the shuttlebay now to do the pre-flight checks, he can access the landing coordinates that have been programmed in. And if he passes them onto you, you can use the auxiliary sensors to scan that area and give us an idea of the terrain and climate to expect, so I can requisition appropriate equipment. Kit, you assist Jonas; you've been working on planetary models on the bridge science stations, so you can analyse the readings more efficiently."
Beside Jonas, Kitirik, the Qarari Science cadet, nodded, his mottled, olive-drab reptilian skin flushing under his neck with anticipation as he nodded at her. "Yes, Respected Squad Leader. We will be most informative."
"The rest of you, follow me, we're heading straight to the Quartermaster."
Eydiir, the tall, dark Capellan Medical cadet, eyed her with curiosity that could be mistaken for suspicion in anyone else. "Shouldn't you prepare a formal requisitions list beforehand?"
Sasha held her PADD in hand, but used it to tap the side of her own head. "I've been preparing since I was ten, playing Away Mission with my Dad. I know the basics of what we need."
"Ten, huh?" Neraxis quipped. "That'll mean lots of ice cream and popcorn."
"You have a problem with that?" Sasha countered with a smile.
*
Deck 3, Cargo Bay:
The Quartermaster's office and the adjacent cargo bays were pandemonium, as cadets moved here and there, lifting and dropping cases and crates of various sizes and shapes, while the Quartermaster herself, a short, squat Rigellian female named Zhastaan, took great delight in refusing every request for supplies from the Squad Leaders that wasn't completed to the most precise standards expected.
Sasha held back with her squad, typing furiously into her PADD, determined to go to Zhastaan the one time and the one time only, with every metaphorical T cross and every I dotted - though she wasn't quite sure how that old saying applied any more with all this smart technology. On the other hand, judging from the delays the other squads were having in getting their requisitions approved, it wasn't smart enough.
Then Sasha's combadge chirped; she smacked it so hard she made her breast ache. "Well?"
"It's Jonas here. Giles has given us the coordinates in our shuttle, and Kit and I have-"
"We're on a deadline, Jonas. Tell me about our base camp - and make it concise."
