Star Trek: Nexus

"Captain's Log, Stardate 87330.1

We're 53 days into our mission to fully map out the Nekrit Expanse, a vast nebula spanning over 4,600 square light years in the Delta Quadrant. Nexus's Cyclonic Shielding and fully operational Regenerative Hull make it resilient where other ships would falter. The Khitomer Alliance earnestly requested the Nexus to map the entire Expanse for a safe passage.

To oversimplify, we've been traversing the Expanse back and forth for 53 consecutive days, and progress is slow. The crew is grappling with a severe case of 'Cabin Fever.' While Stellar Cartography is diligently mapping, and Helm executes occasional U-turns, the ship's 4980 crew members are, for once, faced with an overabundance of the most valuable resource in the Galaxy: Time."

"Black Rook takes White Queen on Tier 3," Nolan announced, executing a strategic move on the 3D chess board, capturing Anzyl's white queen.

Anzyl pouted, "Ohhh nooo! C'mon! Not my queen…" His face was resting on his palm faking a frown, "She was in the middle of planning a ball to marry off her kids to one of their cousins…" He frowned, taking a sip of his synthetic drink.

The Melting Pot was the setting for another round of chess between Nolan and Anzyl, a familiar activity that the captain found increasingly dull.

"I'm sorry, what?" Nolan inquired, placing Anzyl's queen in his victory graveyard.

"Oh, nothing… too many fantasy holodeck hours, I guess…" Anzyl sighed, gazing out of the Melting Pot's window at the expansive sea of pink nebula gas stretching for thousands of light-years in every direction. He moved a pawn absentmindedly, not truly engaged in the game.

"That bored, huh?" Nolan questioned, disappointment evident in his expression as he observed the captain's lack of interest.

"Why?" Anzyl asked, leaning on his palm.

Nolan softly shook his head, "Black Knight to B4, Check and Mate."

Anzyl lethargically flicked his king over, "You win… again…" he sighed.

"It could be worse, Captain," Nolan remarked, resetting the pieces, "You could have…"

"Played chess an untold number of times," Anzyl interjected, staring into the distance, "I've never seen the Holodeck this busy in my entire +400 year lifetime, cooked more sweets than I have in years, and spent hours upon hours working it off in the Gym?"

"I was going to say, you have been on a Voth ship," Nolan explained, resetting the chess board, "There is no recreational anything on a Voth ship."

Anzyl surveyed the Melting Pot, an odd juxtaposition of busyness and lifelessness. The room teemed with people, yet an air of monotony hung thick. Tables were occupied, but the atmosphere resonated with silence—individuals mechanically consuming their meals, lacking the energy of vibrant conversation. Apathy and boredom had cast a pall over the ship, refusing to release its grip.

Recognizing the pressing issue of morale aboard the Nexus, Anzyl knew the crew needed a reprieve from the monotony. Boredom and apathy, he understood, were insidious foes, detrimental to the cohesion of any crew.

His gaze landed on Neil O'Reilly, the first officer, tucked away in a corner with a stack of data pads and an empty glass—likely the remnants of a protein shake. Anzyl couldn't help but shake his head. "Eesh, the man can even make being bored look boring…" he muttered to himself, getting up from the table, excusing himself to Nolan, and deciding to disrupt Neil's solitude with a bit of playful pestering.

Walking up to the rear corner booth, Anzyl casually strolled over, "Goooood day Number 1, how are things today Number 1?"

Neil, engrossed in his data pad, glanced up with only his eyes, "Fine." Knowing the Captain wouldn't be easily deterred, he sighed, "Is there something I can help you with, sir?"

"Oh, just saw you over here. In the corner. By yourself. Wondering what you're doing?" Anzyl swung his hands and snapped his fingers.

"Annual personal reviews," Neil replied, returning to his work.

"Annual pers…" Anzyl struggled with the concept, "Neil, we left the space dock 5 months ago… how are you doing annual, or '12 months have gone by' reviews?"

Annoyed, Neil looked up, still not moving, "Getting a head start."

"A head start would be around month 11…" Anzyl retorted, "You are 5 months early… if these reviews were a baby, they'd be the size of a mango."

Completely confused by the Captain's train of thought, Neil finally looked up at him, baffled, "What does personnel reviews have to do with mangos?"

"You're working too hard!" Anzyl blurted out.

"And some of us have actual WORK to DO!" Neil retorted, almost yelling. "Maybe if..."

His sentence was rudely cut short by the raucous sound of a table flipping over, accompanied by the resounding thud of a Hirogen's fist meeting a Klingon's face. The abrupt disturbance sent ripples of tension through the air, triggering a cascade of pent-up nerves and boredom into a full-blown bar fight that erupted within the Melting Pot.

"Oi!" Anzyl shouted, but his command was swallowed by the chaotic symphony of clashing bodies.

"ENOUGH!" Neil's commanding roar pierced through the tumult as he rose from his table. The Gorn swung at the Nausicans, and Jem'Hadar warriors engaged in skirmishes with anyone in their proximity. Veirek leaped into the fray, exerting his strength to pull brawlers apart and quell the commotion.

Anzyl let out a heavy sigh of annoyance. "This is the third time this month... I swear," he muttered to himself before tapping his combadge, "Zide'Mok… get to the Melting Pot, it's happening… again…"