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WALTAS: One More Time


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((Captain's Quarters, USS Discovery))

::It came from decades of serving aboard a starship. The subtle, yet distinct
sound of a starship dropping out of warp. He awoke slowly, warmth and comfort
fighting him each step of the way. Kieran lay beside him and he smiled,
realizing that part of the comfort he felt was the change in the bond between
them. Before, the bond was a burden, feeling incomplete and fractured, and he
realized that this was from their indiscretion the night they had met. Now, the
bond was still there, but it was whole, complete, and instead of weakness it
provided strength. Unfortunately for Kieran, it gave Tyr the strength he needed
to go through with what he intended to do.::

::Rising from the bed, he gently kissed her forehead, then covered her back up
with the blankets, trying his best not to wake her. He moved to the shower and
let the real water run over him; hot, relaxing and cleansing. When the shower
was through he pulled on a towel, and retrieved his dress whites from the
closet. Pulling on underwear and then the uniform, he combed out his long hair
and tied it into a ponytail. The Captain checked himself in the mirror, then
turned to look at the sleeping form of Kieran one more time.::

WALTAS::Softly:: I'm sorry, Kieran. I have to do this.

((Turbolift, USS Discovery))

o O One more time. O o

::He was in his dress whites, with campaign ribbons, medals and citations
dripping from the left breast area of the uniform. Four golden pips gleamed from
the white collar, and his black polished boots echoed as he stepped onto the
bridge. In full military dress, he looked like the heroes of old he'd seen in
the pictures of the Federation and back through military history. Picard. Kirk.
Archer. Petraeus. Nimitz. Halsey. McArthur. Eisenhower. Patton. Sherman. Grant.
Jackson. Washington. Although the Ba'ku was too modest to compare himself to any
of the figures, he would acknowledge the similarity in appearance. All of them
echoed through time, their pictures with their shining ribbons and medals, rank
insignias and deeds forever burned into the pages of history. Old warriors,
fading with time.::

::Discovery was docked. The bridge was empty. Moored at the repair facility high
above Earth, Discovery was a ghost town. He walked in silently, taking in every
console, every chair, every station. His long career had placed him at all of
the stations except Science and Engineering (and Starfleet had likely saved
several ships by ensuring he didn't occupy these posts), but the place he had
felt most at home and, truthfully, fit him the best (whether he liked it or not)
was the command chair.::

::He'd earned his fourth pip quite some time ago, taking over from Captain
McCall, who had gone on to found the Intel wing of Discovery. He had seen a
long, fairly distinguished career, having commanded Discovery through many
trials and tribulations. The Saurians. The Dyson Sphere. Q's meddling. The
Camelot adventure. Countless others.::

::He moved from the command chair to the First Officer's chair, his hand resting
on the back headrest. He had been in Raj's place. He was McCall's First Officer,
with the two working together to accomplish herculean tasks-including defending
the entire Starbase with a fleet of Starships against a Romulan incursion. He
had disobeyed McCall's final command, racing to rescue him from his Romulan
captors before they executed him. It was during this mission that Tyr had earned
his fourth pip, and he hoped that Raj was well on his way to following in his
footsteps.::

::Before that he was Second Officer on Starbase 118-Ops as a Lt. Commander. He
remembered taking the original Discovery out on his first cruise in command, the
run-in with the pirates and their subsequent arrest. He moved to the now-dark
Security station. He was a Lieutenant on the Constitution, Tactical officer. His
hand gently touched the Sisko Tactical Cross he'd earned during that time,
mostly for his maneuvers against the Borg. He'd paid a heavy price for that
medal-nearly being killed after being assimilated and turning against his
crew.::

::Finally, he walked to the two front stations. He'd occupied both, but his love
was helm, and it was the first duty post he'd ever had. An accomplished pilot,
Tyr never had lost his love of flying, and maneuvering the massive Galaxy-class
Constitution had earned him the respect of his crewmates. Giving the Helm
station a final, gentle pat, he walked back to the turbolift doors. They slid
open silently.::

WALTAS::Softly:: Goodbye.

::He turned his back on the bridge and entered the turbolift.::

WALTAS: Transporter Room 1. Override stops.

::The turbolift chirped obediently, taking the Captain to the transporter room.
He stepped in, finding Raj waiting for him, similarly dressed. He offered an
encouraging smile.::

====================================
Captain Tyr Waltas
Commanding Officer
USS Discovery

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