Skip to main content

Topic: [Agamemnon] S1E2: The Derelict (Read 1521 times) previous topic - next topic

0 Members and 1 Guest are viewing this topic.
[Agamemnon] S1E2: The Derelict
The ship really was a majestic sight to see. Even if it could only be partially viewed out the large windows of the docking aperture, the curved lines and regal figure of the aft portion of the Excelsior-class vessel was awe-inspiring. Fresh out of dock, the Agamemnon had stayed true to its pristine conditions after emerging from the spacedock; no paint was yet scratched and the hull still seemed to glow. Or perhaps that was just the lighting.

Notified about the ship's arrival hours earlier, she had been unable to leave immediately. The Miran had been occupied with the station's security chief, trying to explain that she was a member of Starfleet and that her uniforms had not been stolen, and how her identification had been left in her bags stored onboard the Starfleet transport ship, which she was trying to get access to in the first place. Had the officer looked at the situation logically, he would have laughed to think that a uniform that fit the Miran's figure perfectly would have been produced en masse anyhow. That was not the case, however, and it took a call from Soho's commanding officer to Starfleet Command to verify her records and ensure that she was not some officer's child who had replicated herself an Ensign's rank insignia, or a custom-tailored uniform.

When dealing with those kinds of people, only one word came to mind to express her feelings. Idiots, the girl sighed, physically as well as mentally, as she left the security office with her belongings. That's what they are, the lot of them. Idiots. This line of thinking inevitably played itself out in her head as it had numerous times before during similar situations. If it wasn't people thinking she had stowed herself aboard a Starfleet ship, snuck into Starfleet Academy, stolen a Starfleet Uniform, or some other Starfleet-related thing, it was the continuance of thought that she was just a child, and could justifiably be restricted from certain things. There were no words to describe the kinds of anger and frustration the Miran girl felt regarding that. It was no small wonder, then, that she persisted in her career of choice.

Her thoughts abruptly ended when the Miran noticed the view outside the windows of the docking area. It was hardly a bag-dropping sight, but it was certainly one that was able to stop her thoughts and movement. She was made painfully aware of the latter as the floor seemed to fall into her face, or rather, it was the other way around. Picking herself up, a red-faced officer -no, after a glance she identified the unique uniform of an enlisted crewman- offered his apologies and continued on his way before she could respond. The young officer shook her head, she had more to worry about than a clumsy crewman.

Despite the moment of delay, the Miran had no trouble with the last stretch of the station's interior or boarding the vessel at all. She'd made sure to have the PADD containing her orders in the top of her bag, placed right under her Starfleet ID card. Both of those seemed to assure the security officer at the airlock that things were in order. It didn't stop the quizzical looks, though, but the girl was used to those by now. Well, almost.

As she started down the hallway, the Miran was passed by a number of officers and enlisted alike. Despite this, their eyes seemed to linger upon her, as if trying to bore a hole through her skull. The sight of the Miran provoked many stares and strange looks, ones that the girl was, by now, all to familiar with. That didn't seem to help the situation, however. While, she too, had her curiosity and would stare at someone who appeared strange to her, it didn't seem fair to be that person herself. The girl had considered herself unique through the Academy, and had earned a few wayward followers by her senior year. By the end of her months on the Bjornke, the few that still stared after her either had never seen her previously, for the ship was a large vessel, or simply didn't have the willpower to accept the difference in her appearance.

Rolling her eyes, the Miran found herself enjoying a bit of hindsight. She was taking this much better than she had aboard the Bjornke. Hopefully, her procedural meetings with the various officers aboard this ship wouldn't be as disasterous as the last. She cringed and laughed at herself as the girl recalled her temper getting the best of her as the Bjornke's captain remarked that the Academy was lowering their standards every year, and in a few years time his grandchild could get in, noting that she was an infant at the moment. The Miran girl could certainly get very agitated over the subject, even though she faced had faced those kinds of situations in the Academy. In fact, ever since leaving Miri's World, there was not a single person that she had met who had not stopped to question her appearance, age or other aspect of her species' situation.

That was the galaxy for you, humans especially. Despite declaring themselves social creatures, they seemed to be quite the opposite. Or rather, humans were social creatures for creatures just like themselves. Exactly, even down to the last molecule. Not even barring gender or skin color in some instances, it seemed; although the period of time in which that practice was widespread had long since passed. Yet it was amazing how much prejudice remained, for non-humans, for species who looked human, or even for humans born outside of Earth. Starfleet looked down on the behavior, of course, and so the amount of it present there was miniscule. Yet, given the recent events surrounding the almost-failed Khitomer accords, it seemed that even Starfleet was not immune to its effects.

By this time, the Miran had reached the turbolift positioned on the opposite side of the deck from the airlock. It wasn't a convenient place, but then again, ship designers couldn't be perfect at all times. She glanced at her PADD as she waited for a car to arrive as per her request. There were a number of officers listed that she needed to contact. Given the weight of her bags and her animosity towards carrying them much further, the girl elected to head for the Quartermaster first, before reporting to the ship's Executive Officer, which was standard procedure. Agamemnon's Quartermaster was a Petty Officer First Class by the name of Meris, a Denobulan female. According to her PADD, the Quartermaster's office was on Deck 7, a few decks below.

When the turbolift stopped and opened its doors, the Miran girl gratefully entered. Speaking her destination to the ship's computer, she dropped her twin duffle bags on the floor for a moment to rest her arms. The entire ride didn't take very long, which was the point of the turbolift, and she was forced to reclaim them a few minutes later. A short walk brought the girl outside of the Quartermaster's office, and she pressed the chime. A greeting came from inside the room, prompting her to enter. She did so, and dropped her bags on the floor in front of the Denobulan's desk before offering her PADD to the Quartermaster and introducing herself.

"I'm Ensign Evangeline Erinth, just transferred onboard. I'll need a room assignment before I go anywhere else, these bags are just too heavy to keep carrying around all day. And before you ask, here," the girl offered up her Starfleet ID as she spoke her last word, making sure that there was no conflict as on Soho. It didn't stop the noncom from presenting her with the common stare and a strange look, but was nonetheless effective.

Nodding, the Denobulan turned to her computer console. She entered a few commands and turned back to the girl, "Alright, everything seems to be in order. I've put you down for a space on Deck 4, room 407." The Quartermaster handed the PADD and ID card back to the girl, who took it with a nod. A word of thanks was uttered before the Miran lifted her bags and headed out the door. The trip to her quarters passed uneventfully, for a Miran anyways, and she was relieved when the opportunity came to set her bags down inside her quarters. The girl's arms ached and she longed to lie down on her bed and just rest for a while. It wasn't possible, of course, else she would have. But there were more things to do, more people to see. The Miran girl was sure she would be busy for the next few hours.
  • Last Edit: November 16, 2007, 06:48:09 pm by The Insane Admin