A Fresh Start

Posted on 01 Feb 2018 @ 12:47pm by Sergeant Major Donovan Daly (Dec-Jan 2389 - TRNSFR, Camp Revenant)
Edited on on 01 Feb 2018 @ 3:38pm

Mission: He ho'omaka hou 'ana - A New Beginning
Location: 3rd Marine Raider Battalion Headquarters, Pollux IV, Level 2-Main Transporter Room
Timeline: Stardate: 65989.812 (December 28, 2388, Time: 06:30:30 hrs.)]

Second Lieutenant McKinley hated pulling Gamma Shift. This was the fourth duty shift that started at 2400 hrs and ended at 0800 hrs. It was usually relegated to the junior officers, as most people were not too fond of pulling this late shift. The bored lieutenant dutifully stood at the Transporter Console waiting for his shift to end. He looked at the LCARS display on his Transporter Console and noticed the time, '0630 hrs'. ‘Man, I can’t wait to get off shift and catch some shuteye,’ the drowsy junior officer thought to himself as he attempted to stifle a yawn, ‘A big breakfast, a warm sonic shower...’ The thought of his shift ending brought a smile to his face.

Suddenly, Lieutenant McKinley’s commbadge chirped to life.

=^= Main Transporter Room, this is Starfleet Shuttle Robin Sage. =^=

“Go ahead,” responded the junior officer as he immediately snapped out of his brief reverie.

=^= We’re transporting a VIP down to you. =^=

‘Who the hell could it be?’ McKinley thought to him curiously. Quickly his hand flew over the touch screen of the console. He brought up the crew manifest and looked over the scheduled transport times. Senior staff wasn’t scheduled to be transported aboard until 0830 hrs., well after his shift ended.

As if reading his thoughts, Robin Sage responded,

=^= We’re transporting the new Marine Detachment Senior NCO. Name’s Daly.=^=

The acting Transporter Room Officer quickly scanned the crew manifest and found the appropriate line number, which listed the name, rank, and position of a crewmember. It read, ‘Daly, Donovan J., Sergeant Major. Marine Detachment Senior Noncommissioned Officer.’ The lieutenant noticed the scheduled transport time, it read 0745 hrs. ‘That’s odd,’ McKinley thought to himself, ‘Well if he wants to come aboard early who am I to stop him?’

“Affirmative, Robin Sage. We’re prepared to receive,” the Transporter Room Officer responded. The lieutenant’s hands flew over the controls of the Transporter Console, “Energizing.”

As the lieutenant slid his fingers along the console’s controls, one of the pads on the Transporter platform began to glow incandescently. As the transporter’s matter stream began to appear, the Transporter Operator quickly made any necessary corrections to ensure that the transporter trace, the stored copy of the subject's molecular pattern, rematerialized without any problems. As the matter stream began to dissipate, McKinley could see the subatomic particles quickly coalescing into a humanoid form. The matter stream completely dissipated and there stood the meanest looking Starfleet Marine the young lieutenant had ever laid eyes on.

The tan-skinned, square-jawed Marine stood just under six-feet tall and under two-hundred pounds. He was by no means the largest individual, but his wiry frame possessed taunt muscles that strained against the fabric of his duty uniform; the obvious results from years of intensive regular exercise. Though he looked relaxed standing at the position of parade-rest (both arms behind his back), he projected an aura of power, with the promise of pain at the slightest provocation. From his perpetual scowl, right down to the hideous web of scars that riddled the left side of his face, every line of scar tissue told a story that this Marine had seen the horrors of combat many times over.

He furrowed his brow into an angry glare, and from his cold, dead grey eyes he looked upon the gawking young Starfleet Marine officer. With a gravelly voice that sounded like pebbles being dropped onto a coffin’s lid, the Sergeant Major inquired, “Is there a problem, son?”

“N..n-n-n..no..n-n-no problem…no problem at all,” the young lieutenant stammered. The senior NCO shot him a menacing glare as if expecting something else. The young lieutenant realized his breach of protocol and quickly correcting himself, “I mean, no problem at all…Sergeant Major.”

The burly old Marine just grunted, “Hmph,” as he bent down and picked up his duffel bag. He then stepped down off the Transporter platform and walked over to the young Starfleet Marine officer, who by now had started sweating profusely, beads of sweat running down his forehead. McKinley hadn’t been this nervous since he first met his instructors back at Starfleet Marine Basic Officer Academy. Noticing the lieutenant’s discomfort, the Sergeant Major replied, “Relax LT, before you strain something.” The lieutenant relaxed slightly, but he still found himself acting like a nervous Cadet around the senior enlisted Marine.

Following proper protocol, Lieutenant McKinley offered the senior enlisted Marine an escort to the base’s ‘head shed’ – the battalion headquarters. The Sergeant Major turned away from the junior officer and made his way towards the pair of sliding doors. Slightly annoyed, Daly responded, “Don’t worry about it son, I can find my own way. I maybe old, but I’m not senile. As you were.” Once the Sergeant Major left the room, the young lieutenant finally exhaled, not realizing he had been holding his breath, and breathed out a huge sigh of relief.

As Sergeant Major Daly made his way towards the empty hallway he marveled at the expansive interior of the well-constructed headquarters. As the Sergeant Major walked along the mostly empty corridors, he couldn’t shake the eerie feeling of emptiness that seemed prevalent wherever he went. It felt wrong, with there being none of the usual hustle-and-bustle that was always present in most Starfleet headquarters, most likely due to Sergeant Major’s early morning arrival.

Occasionally, Daly looked into the highly polished reflective surfaces of the computer displays and large windows that lined most of the corridors and saw ghostly images of Marines going about their daily routines. Many of these images were of fellow Marines that he had served with, who had died many years ago. Stopping briefly, the senior NCO closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths to steady his nerves.

‘So many lives lost. So many good men and women..,’ he silently reflected to himself. Once he calmed himself down, Daly cautiously opened his eyes and looked into the nearest LCARS display. He noticed that he didn’t see any more ghosts from his past. Satisfied, he continued on his way to report to the 3rd Marine Raider Battalion Commander.

As the Sergeant Major continued onward towards his destination, he thought about the things he still needed to accomplish on his 'to do' list. First and foremost, he still needed to go over the new Alpha Roster of incoming Marines that were to report to the U.S.S. Hawaii. The senior NCO looked forward to the mundane task to distract him from his morose thoughts. Fortunately, there was still plenty of tasks left to accomplish before he reported to his new command.

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