Arrival pt I

Posted on Wed 20th Feb, 2013 @ 10:40am by Lieutenant Thomas Jorrel & Ensign Sean Warren & Petty Officer 1st Class Dae Bhen
Edited on on Wed 20th Feb, 2013 @ 10:42am

803 words; about a 4 minute read

Mission: http://sb109.sim-station.net/index.php/sim/missions/id/3
Location: Transport Vessel Charon
Timeline: 1900 Hours

The large man stood at the plasteel window, looking out as the transport vessel made an approach toward the station. His brown eyes roamed the entirety of it, watching as it slowly increased in size as they drew nearer.

“Whoa, that’s big,” the man, smaller only by relativity to the larger man, said, also watching the station come into view.

Jorrel shrugged. “It’s no bigger than Nine Hundred. Same configuration and class of stardock in fact.”

Warren smiled, “Yeah, but we were just there for expeditionary forces, now…we’re in charge of that whole thing. Well, more correctly and better for me, you’re in charge of that whole thing.”

Jorrel shook his head – the orders that promoted him to fleet admiral were quickly recognized as a mistake and rescinded. However the ten minutes between receiving them and the official correction were the most anxious ten minutes of his life. For a Marine turned tactical security officer that was saying much. He faced down hundreds of enemy combatants and a Caitian lieutenant who ordered him to dance – so that was saying something. However, Warren still found it amusing. “I’m not in charge of anything but a department,” he answered. Even that was causing him a fair amount of anxiety.

Sure, he was used to leading men in combat and not. This transfer to the Joint Operations force had done wonders for him and his career, culminating now as a department head on a starbase. A starbase! Not just a ship but an entire starbase!

He felt the panic attack coming on again.

“Hey, there’s a reason they’re sending you here,” Warren said, punching his friend in the arm. “They’re recognizing you’d bring the best with you.”
Jorrel smiled at that, “Yeah, that’s true, where is the Bajoran monkey anyway?”

Warren rolled his eyes at the lame attempt to deflect a compliment. “He’s back at quarters. Something about diaper doodie.”

“Duty,” Jorrel corrected.

“Hey, I’ve babysat that little poop machine same as you have, I meant ‘doodie’. I don’t care what Dae says, nothing that makes that much of a smell can be healthy.”

Jorrel held off answering as the shipboard announcement regarding their arrival at the starbase in ten minutes ran through twice. It also notified them that it will be 1900 hours starbase time upon docking. Jorrel checked his chronometer, double checking that his time synced with that of the starbase. He switched to local starbase time second day on the transport, having the rest of his unit do the same, to help get them acclimated so they would be ready to get to work and already be adjusted.

“You should be nicer, he named his child after you. Don’t know why.”

“Because he recognizes complete awesomeness, even if my ‘Chief’ doesn’t.”

Jorrel grabbed Warren into a headlock and performing what his older brothers referred to as a ‘nouggie’. “Hey, if I didn’t would I be bringing you along on this little escapade?” He heard a slight cough from behind him and looked over his shoulder, seeing several other officers in the lounge. Blushing he let Warren go, ignoring the feeble jabs to his lower ribs. “Sorry,” he muttered, only then reminded of the weight of the extra gold pip on his collar.
Nothing about him could be referred to as ‘junior’ anymore.

More embarrassing, though, was that the reminder came not from one of the fellow officers, but a petty officer, holding a tiny baby in its harness on his chest. “I just got him to sleep, don’t ruin this for me,” Dae said as he slowly crossed the room, pitching his voice low. “Ten minutes of peace is a blessing from the Prophets, cause I know he’s just going to wake crabby when we disembark.”

“Does he wake up any other way?” Warren asked, having shared quarters on the trip with the two.

Jorrel nudged the shorter man as he smiled down at the baby. He wanted to ask to hold the baby, but if Dae just got his son down to sleep, he didn’t want to risk waking the child. According to his sister, babies needed their sleep. Maybe he could finagle holding him at disembarkation. It would be easy enough for him to carry his gear and the baby at the same time. If he had to, he’d just tell Dae it was a ‘lieutenant’s perogrative’.
Warren, recognizing the way his friend melted around children merely rolled his eyes, knowing what was coming. Somehow the large tactical officer couldn’t help but turn into a large pile of blubbering goo whenever little Waren was around.

 

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