It's Moving Day

Posted on Fri Oct 28th, 2011 @ 4:38pm by Lieutenant JG Michael Watters

Mission: Old Relics
Location: Senior Officer's Quarters - Deck 3, USS Endeavour
Timeline: Mission Day 01, 1454

ON: [[Senior Officer's Quarters - Deck 3, USS Endeavour, Mission Day 01, 1454]]

As Mike made his way along a rounding stretch of corridor, he could not help but feel as if his first meeting with Captain Byrne had not gone as well as he could have hoped. He had arrived aboard the Endeavour unsure of what the reasoning behind his assignment to this Sovereign-class vessel might have been. Perhaps part of him had expected to find at least a small detachment of marines or a specialized liaison posting. Instead, he had been surprised to learn there had been a second component to his orders which had transferred his recent commission from the Starfleet Marine Corps back to the division of Starfleet Security. It was at that point the meeting had gone south as far as he was concerned.

"Afternoon," Mike said with a curt nod of acknowledgment to a passing woman in services gold who smiled but did not say anything in reply.

Mike continued down the corridor, his pace slowing somewhat as he began comparing the door numbers to the information he had received from the ship's quartermaster. It was not long before he found himself standing outside the door to his new personal quarters. He reached out with one hand, keyed the thumb pad, and stepped through the door, which slid open with a faint hiss to admit him.

The first thing that struck Mike as he stood upon the threshold of his quarters was how much larger they seemed. Personal accommodations were among certain perks afforded to senior officers aboard Sovereign-class vessels, but these were much more spacious than those given enlistedmen aboard the smaller Luna-class or Prometheus-class starships, to say nothing of marine accommodations in the field.

From where he stood, Mike had a clear view of the main living area with its personal workstation, couch, replicator, and small dining area. A series of large viewports running along one wall offered a view of the Antarctic as she continued on a parallel course alongside. Beyond the living area was the more private living space which included a bedroom as well as a bathroom for his personal use. It was, without a doubt, the largest living space he had ever called his own.

His gaze eventually came to rest on the short stack of medium-sized transport containers which stood in the middle of the main living area. This was what amounted to the extent of Mike's personal belongings that had been transported over from the Antarctic. It was always strange to see all of one's possessions condensed into a few boxes as it really put into perspective the amount of stuff Mike had accumulated over the years.

The hardest part was deciding where to start. Mike stepped forward and reached for the clasps on the first transport box. He unlatched them and lifted the lid to survey the contents. Most of it consisted of a few books and other belongings better suited to the work area of his quarters. With both hands, he lifted the container and crossed over to set it on the desk. He removed the books skimmed the titles before placing them on one of the shelves behind the desk. A short stack of PADDs found a home next to the computer access terminal while he found places for a few specific photographs that had been framed, including one of his search and rescue team from the war as well as another depicting Mike with the members of his relief team on Cardassia. It wasn't long before he had managed to unpack the contents of the first box.

Too much open space, Mike thought to himself as he set aside the first transport box and began making his way toward the second. The contents of the second container ended up being distributed around the remainder of the main area. Mike had the feeling he might be rearranging a few things over the next couple of days to compensate for the extra space, so he just put things in what seemed to be the best location at the moment and left them as is.

Lastly, Mike took on the contents of the last two transport containers, most of which ended up in the bedroom anyway. Uniforms and off-duty clothing made a B-line directly for the closet and drawers. He only needed to make a few trips back into the main room to put away books or other personal items that had made their way into the larger container. This was not the first time Mike had been transferred to another assignment and it didn't hurt that he also tended to bring far less than the average crewmember when moving from assignment to assignment. The care he had taken in packing ahead of time had made unpacking very much a simple chore.

By the time Mike had finally finished getting everything out of the containers, he was left with only a few belongings he felt would be better suited to the office rather than his living quarters. He surveyed the room again as one might imagine a fish might take in a newer, larger aquarium.

"Computer, lower ambient light level to eighty percent," he said, watching as the illumination in the room slowly faded to the requested level. It may have seemed too dark for everyday living to some people, but Mike found a slightly reduced lighting level to be easier on the eyes and often helped to cut back on any harsh contrasts.

[[Security/Tactical Office - Deck 5, USS Endeavour]]

Mike crossed the threshold into the area designated as the Chief Security/Tactical Officer's office and slowly lowered the small tote he had been carrying onto the desk. He took a moment to admire the space that he would likely be spending at least a few of his on-duty hours in. The large visual display behind the desk was running a standard cycle of non-vital information as well as ship status identification and a visual of the ship's internal chronometer. Aside from a few PADDs stacked neatly near the desktop computer interface, there wasn't much there to show that the office was currently occupied.

He set the tote down he had been carrying tucked under his arm on the edge of the desk. No sooner had he started unpacking its contents than the familiar sound of the doorchime reached his ears. "Enter," Mike called out as he pulled out a pair of PADDs and added them to the stack already waiting on his desk. There was a faint hiss as the door opened and Mike glanced over his shoulder to see a young petty officer standing in the office doorway. "Well...are you coming in or aren't you," he asked, placing the few remaining items on the desk.

"Yes, sir," the petty officer replied as he took a rather sudden step into the room, allowing the door to close behind him, "I hope I'm not interrupting anything..."

"I just finished," Mike said with a wry smile. He dropped the empty tote onto the floor and pushed up against the side of the desk with his foot. Continuing around the desk, Mike paused behind the empty chair and rested his arms on the headrest. "What can I help you with, petty officer," he asked.

"...Kessler, sir," the young man offered, "Robert Kessler, Master-at-Arms. I just thought I'd...you know...come check and see how things were going, introduce myself, that kind of thing."

Mike raised an eyebrow. There was definitely an edge to the younger man's voice that seemed to indicate he was a little nervous about meeting with his new superior. No doubt members of the ship's crew had at least heard rumors of their new Chief Security/Tactical Officer and, knowing how these things sometimes made their way around, it was a sure bet not all of it was good. "At ease, Mister Kessler," Mike said, "I'm not planning on throwing anyone out an airlock just yet."

Kessler did as he was told, but only relaxed slightly from his former position.

"Thank you," Mike told him, "and I appreciate you taking the time to come down here. It's going to take me a few days to settle in and get everything figured out. I will probably be relying on you to help me keep things running until I get a better idea of where we stand. Can I count on you for that?"

"Yes, sir," Kessler replied enthusiastically.

"Very good," Mike said with a smile, "I don't officially start until oh-seven-hundred tomorrow morning, so let's plan to meet around the same time tomorrow to talk over a few things."

"Sounds like a plan, sir," the young petty officer said, nodding slightly to show that he understood, "Will there be anything else?" He had been a little concerned when people had started talking about the new Chief Security/Tactical Officer having been a former marine drill sergeant or something, but the new chief didn't seem to be all that harsh based on what he'd seen so far. Just went to show why one shouldn't put too much stock in rumors and scuttlebutt.

"No...that will be all," Mike answered, "Dismissed."

Kessler snapped back to formal attention before turning on his heel and departing through the door. As Mike watched the young man disappear from view, he could not help but think back to his time serving as Master-at-Arms aboard the Pandora. It had been considerably more responsibility than he'd previously held within Starfleet. At no time did he even consider the possibility that he might one day be responsible for a Security/Tactical department of his own.

Now that everything was unpacked and had found a home, however temporary it might be, Mike took a moment to check the ship's chronometer. Time always seemed to pass more swiftly when one found something to occupy that time with. If he was going to swing by the mess hall for dinner and hope to run into at least some of the regulars, he figured that it would probably have to be soon.

OFF

A Joint Mission Post by:

Lieutenant JG Michael "Mike" Watters
Chief Security/Tactical Officer
USS Endeavour

And

Petty Officer Robert "Bobby" Kessler (NPC)
Master-at-Arms
USS Endeavour
Played by: LtJG Watters