Arrival

Posted on 11 Nov 2017 @ 7:01am by Lieutenant Commander Darren Marian (Dec-Jan 2389 - WIA-TRNSFR to XFY Medical)

Mission: He ho'omaka hou 'ana - A New Beginning
Location: Executive Officer's Office
Timeline: Current

ON:

With the slightest bump Darren touched the small shuttlecraft down in the docking bay of the USS Hawaii. After running through the shutdown procedure on the shuttle, he stood stiff-leggedly and disembarked onto the ship that would serve as his home for the coming months.

The staff at the starbase he'd left from had offered to supply him with a pilot for the several hour voyage to the Providence Fleet Yards, but Darren had always enjoyed flying himself to new assignments, whenever he was able. He enjoyed flying, and besides, many hours of exchanging pleasantries and small talk was his idea of a personal hell.

Darren looked his surroundings over appraisingly. The ship was without a doubt unfinished, but unmistakably new. Everything was shining, crisp, without the wear of lightyears upon lightyears of travel that could be seen on older ships, like his last assignment, the California.

He hadn't been assigned Senior Officer's quarters there, as he'd only been serving as acting Executive Officer there. Other than that they would be superior to his previous quarters, he didn't know quite what to expect.

"Excuse me, Lieutenant, is this yours?" The voice came from behind him. Darren turned. A short operations officer wearing an Ensign's pip was standing before him, proffering the silver luggage case that was standard issue in Starfleet.

"Yes, thank you Ensign," Darren replied, accepting the case.

"We'll get the shuttle turned around for the trip back, sir."

Darren inclined his head slightly as reply, and turned back to head for the turbolift. How could he have left his luggage in the shuttle? It must have been the long trip. He felt the tiredness in his bones. His mind was sluggish. I've got to get some sleep, he thought. But there was too much to do for now. He needed to meet the CO, meet the other senior staff. Get things in order. This was command, now. No more waiting for others to tell him where to go, what to do. This was his time to tell. Just like on the California.

The senior officer's quarters were bigger than his quarters before, although sparse. Darren chalked this up to the newness of the ship. He would have to plan later how to decorate. Even though he'd never been much of a decorator.

The doorchime sounded. Darren looked up, surprised. "Yes?"

The doors to his quarters slid open, revealing yet another ensign, this one in command colors. "Excuse me, sir, hope I'm not intruding."

"What can I do for you, Ensign...?"

"Randall, sir. Ensign Bartholomew Randall. Most people call me Bart." The boy was nervous.

"As I said, Ensign, um, Bart. What can I do for you?"

"Oh, right, sir. Sorry. I heard you had arrived and just wanted to make sure you had found your quarters alright and see if I can take anything to your office for you in the meantime."

Oh, right. I have an office, Darren thought.

"That won't be necessary. I can take what I need myself. Deck two, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"Very good. That will be all, Ensign."

The young man backed out of the doorway.

Darren looked over his things, thinking what he would need to take to his office. He unpacked his personal belongings, putting to the side a few things: A small humidor, filled with select cigars he'd found on his travels thus far; several volumes of ancient earth literature, bound in the old-fashioned way; a small statuette of an old Constitution-class cruiser; and a crystalline bottle of dark brown liquid. This was his prized bottle of Toldark rum, one of few souvenirs he allowed himself from his adventures thus far. He put all of these items in a small pack, and headed for Deck 2.

The executive officer's office seemed to be nearly fully furnished, with a wide, expansive desk and reclining chair, as well as chairs and sofa for guests. Darren moved behind the desk and sat down, pulling the books out of his bag and stacking them carefully on the desk. He put the humidor in a drawer, but not before pulling out a cigar, one of the odorless, toxin-free varieties from Earth. He went to the replicator. "One rum glass." It appeared.

Darren sat behind the desk and uncorked the rum, pouring a serving before putting it in a drawer and closing it. With a pull, the cigar self-lit, releasing smell-less vapor as he puffed out and sipped the rum, leaning back and looking over his new office. Very good, he thought to himself. Very good indeed.