USS Kennedy



Seven Two Blues

Posted on Sun Oct 11th, 2020 @ 8:08am by Lieutenant Niali Cri'oses

Mission: Mission 0: Reporting As Ordered
Location: Transport Callisto / Starbase 72

Cri pulled her gloves tight over her hands and took a breath. Her shoulders shrugged lightly under the weight of her kit bag, and her eyes fell on the transporter room floor. For a moment she glanced up to the civilian transport operators and gave a smirk and a wave, before a shimmering blue light spiraled up from around her feet and across her form and she vanished. Seconds later that same shimmer reversed across kilometers of space, circling down to the pad floor of one of the lower Starbase transporter rooms.

It took her a minute to settle into the room. It was always so noisy on Starbases. She could feel the surface emotions of hundreds or thousands of individuals for a moment before she steeled herself and silenced the countless voices. Her eyes glanced up and met those of the Transporter Operator in the same uniform as her. A smile crossed her lips and she heard the man speak up.

"Welcome to Starbase 72, Lieutenant,"

"Thank you. Can you point me towards wherever the Kennedy is staging?" She spoke as she stepped off the pad.

"I have no idea, Lieutenant. The computer can guide you there, though."

"Fair enough," She said as she adjusted her bag again. "Thanks," She said before she wandered out into the hall without another word. She considered for a minute asking the computer to light up her path - but then took a breath as she looked around. "Computer, where is the Kennedy staging from?" She asked.

There was a chime and the computer gave a docking section for her to move towards. She did so absentmindedly, walking through the halls and giving a quiet glance from person to person as she moved at first. When she finally reached a turbolift, she found herself alone. She took off her left glove and examined her hand. The tips of the fingers had been burned away, revealing the cybernetics beneath - what would have been minor burns from working on the Callisto's replicators as she traveled here. She moved each finger independently, watching to make sure there was nothing off with the movements.

She took a deep breath. It was an odd sensation still, to be sure, but one she had slowly but surely begun to get used to. She found herself rummaging through her pack pockets with her other hand, soon enough pulling a decoupler from her personal tools. She held it between two fingers before pulling her left sleeve up to her elbow. More cybernetics became evident - small lines and access ports breaking cleanly through the skin of her lower left arm. She worked for a second with the decoupler on her arm. A small click sounded and the skin pulled away from a port and revealed some internal workings. It was certain lights and signs she was looking for. With no warnings to be aware of from the signs of the lights, she took the decoupler and adjusted the port back to closed, and then slipped the tool back into her pack.

She needed to drop by sickbay and grab a dermal regenerator to fix her fingers - but it was just an appearance. It might not have been real, but it was biological. No sense in freaking people out, she thought, as she pulled her glove back onto the wounded hand - followed by pulling her sleeve back down. She still had a few minutes alone in the turbolift to the docking bay. She let her mind drift to memories to drown out the thousands of souls scattered around her. Having spent the last few years with a Tellarite as a Chief, it might be nice to deal with someone she could read a bit better - though, she had to admit, she did enjoy all the fun new ways she had learned to deride people from her Chief, even if most of it came towards her. Still, another Norway was a comfortable place to begin her career as a chief she supposed.

The turbolift doors finally hissed open and she found herself in what was clearly the docking ring with a new ship being stocked and staged. There were logistics crew rushing around, crates and transfers moving through the corridors. Maybe it wasn't just the Kennedy in the area. She didn't know, and didn't really care. She caught a glance of another Betazoid - easy to tell thanks to the eyes - and she reached out.

Hey, Kennedy? Her mind touched his for a moment.

The betazoid logistics crewmen pointed off down a corridor in response.

Thanks, she responded with a thought before moving off in the direction he had pointed. It was a simple enough thing, but did involve a lot of twisting and turning around the occasional other person. She didn't have any trouble, anything interesting to report from it. The occasional nervous crewman passed by and triggered her empathy, but otherwise it was just a loud walk towards some poor red-shirted crewman holding a padd. That was almost certainly her goal. She headed that direction. She cleared her throat as she approached.

"Can I help you?" The crewman said quickly.

"Looking for Kennedy,"

"You found the right spot. Transfer orders?" The crewman responded.

Cri reached to her cargo pocket on her uniform trousers and pulled her padd out. She offered it over to him. "Cri'oses - engineering, from the Cambridge."

The man made a noise and looked through his notes. It took him a few seconds to confirm the data, and he pushed his screen after a moment. "Got it. Straight back from here, transporter room on the left. Any supplies?"

"Mostly this bag. Transport Callisto has my cargo - no more than a single beam over to my quarters when you're ready." She said stepping off in the direction he had indicated. "Thanks,"

"Welcome aboard, Lieutenant."

"Thanks," She added as she walked away. She knew she should have stopped by the promenade or done something for herself before just moving on to the next ship. She had spent no time between stepping off the Callisto before moving straight towards her new ship - something she knew was probably a mistake. But, Starbases always made her a little uncomfortable. There were too many people standing still, and with the drudgery of everyday life, she could feel the way normal things stopped sliding off shoulders. Starships were all about being out there, exploring and moving forward. Sitting still never suited her. It probably never could.

But a treat would have been a good idea. Never know when you'd have the chance again.

Oh well.