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Lieutenant (JG) Solaris McLaren - A bit of family history. (Part 1 & 2)


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(( U.S.S. Constitution - Deck 27 - Sol's Office - The Next Day ))

:: The previous day had been mentally exhausting for Sol. Directing the resources of a Galaxy-class starship was rather taxing. Still, it was good to take a challenge every so often. Of course that also meant that reports had been piling up on her desk. She took a look at the first PADD that had found its way to her desk and laughed when she found a list of potential problem groups that was known to inhabit the Starbase. ::
McLaren: oO Oh... if only I had seen this yesterday... Oo :: she sighed to herself and walked over to the replicator. :: Tea, Earl Grey. Hot.
:: The replicator buzzed to life and deposited a mug of tea in front of her. She picked it up and took a sip, before returning to her desk. There was one thing left to complete from her previous day, a comprehensive report for the Captain. Which was sure to take atleast a couple of hours. Sol picked up a blank PADD and began detailing just what had happened the previous day. ::
(( Short time skip ))
:: Sol thumbed back through her report, skimming it to check that she hadnt missed anything. She had also made sure to note everyone who had stepped up, since it seemed the right thing to do. She smiled, content that everything had been detailed. ::
McLaren: Computer, locate Captain Rajel.
Computer: Captain Rajel is in her quarters.
McLaren: oO Hmm... best not bother her then, she's still probably trying to get some rest. Oo :: She tapped the PADD. :: File report for Captain Rajel and mark as important.
:; The computer beeped in compliance and left Sol in silence for the moment. Sol sat, sipping her tea, contemplating just what to do next. With their mission complete, the crew had some shoreleave time. Sol leaned back, wondering just what to do. Hadnt her mother said something about something getting delivered to her quarters? Maybe she should check that out. She stood, and headed out of her office. ::
(( Deck 03 - Sol's Quarters ))
:: The Box her mother had been talking about was still sitting where it had been left by whomever had delivered it. It was a standard Starfleet storage crate, about the size of a footlocker. Though it looked like it had come from the Starfleet that had existed nearly 100 years prior. Sol knelt and ran her hand over the top surface. 'Sibeal Doyle' was written across the top, along with the person's rank and their last ship. It was as if this had gone straight into storage right after they had left Starfleet. Sol popped the latches and pulled the top off. A small note sat atop the contents of the footlocker. ::
:: Sol,
We found these things in storage. They belonged to your grandmother. She didnt talk much about what she did in Starfleet, but maybe this will help you get to know her.
Mom ::
:: Sol smiled, setting the note aside. She moved back the black cloth that had been covering everything, and reached into the box, pulling out an old uniform with the insignia, of what she presumed was, a Lt. Commander pinned on the shoulder strap. The old style Starfleet delta was still pinned on the breast its shiny copper and white colour standing out from the maroon of the uniform's jacket. Sol ran her fingers over the badge, which was from a time before they functioned as communicators, before setting the uniform aside and looking back into the box. A small clear case stood out from everything else for the moment. Inside was an older styled isolinear chip. Sol fished the case out of the box and stood, walking over to her terminal. She popped the chip into it and brought it up on her screen. Log entries were soon listed. Sol tapped the first one, before returning to the box. ::
"Sibeal Doyle's Personal Log - Stardate 7823.5
I just receieved my first posting. Im the Intelligence Officer aboard the U.S.S. Kongo NCC-1710, a recently refit Constitution-class ship. I cant imagine she'll be around too much longer, before something bigger and better comes along, but Im excited to finally be out there."
:: Sol smiled. Her grandmother sounded quite a lot like her, even down to their choice of position. Though instead of being on one of the smallest ships in the fleet, she was on one of the largest now. ::
McLaren: Computer, play another entry.
:: The computer beeped, as Sol pulled a small starship model out of the box. It had been carefully packed. It was of a Constitution-class vessel. 'U.S.S. Kongo NCC-1710' was painted on the saucer. The first ship her grandmother had been assigned to. Sol stood and walked over to her desk, setting the model on it, fiddling with it a bit, before deciding a shelf might be a better spot for it. ::
"Intelligence Officer's Log - Stardate 8205.9
Captain Rodis' recommendation to Starfleet didn't help. The Excelsior already has an Intelligence Officer aboard so my request for transfer was denied. Captain Rodis felt that was unfair, so he's promoted me to Lt. Commander as well as second officer. As much as I wanted to move to a bigger and better ship, the Kongo has been my home for the past 7 years and I'm grateful to the Captain for trusting me as much as he has. Its not official yet, but my next log will be in my new position." 
:: Sol hadnt realized that her grandmother had been around during the more relaxed days of Starfleet. She frowned slightly, wishing she could have gotten to actually know her grandmother. It sounded as if her grandmothers time aboard the Kongo had been eventful, but she had been looking to move up, something Sol was unfamiliar with. Sol sat at her computer, looking at the little model that now inhabited an empty portion of her bookshelf, wonder just what that ship had been like. ::
McLaren: Computer, access personnel records for Lt. Commander Sibeal Doyle. And play the another log log.
:: The computer again beeped, and Sol glanced at the screen, and found herself startled at the image that had greeted her. It was almost like looking in a mirror. She had seen pictures of her grandmother before but never when she had been young. The face the looked back at her from the screen had the same red eyes that she did, and the same white hair. And a look that was unnerving, almost like she was looking right into her soul. She idly wondered if that was how people saw her. She scrolled through the file as the log played. ::
"Second Officer's Log - Stardate 9521.8
The latest briefs from Starfleet Intelligence came through earlier. They confirmed what I heard from Excelsior's intelligence officer. Praxis is gone. Starfleet is scrambling to put together a plan to deal with what they call "the Klingon problem". Captain Rodis has put the Kongo on high alert... Our proximity to the Klingon border makes us a tempting target. I can only hope that things dont devolve into all out war here. I dont enjoy the idea of combat with the Klingons."
:: Sol raised an eyebrow. She wasnt much of a history person, but she knew of the Praxis incident. She sat back and wondered just what else her grandmother had gotten up to about that little ship so long ago. ::
:: Sol leaned back in her chair, looking at the screen in front of her. It still displayed hey grandmothers service record. She had been involved in some pretty major events, even if only tangentially. ::
McLaren: Computer, play next log entry.
:: Sol stood, and wandered back over to the box of her grandmother's things, kneeling down again. ::
"Second Officer's Log - Stardate 9528.5
The Kongo and Republic have been chosen to provide security for the upcoming conference. As senior Intelligence officer between the two ships, its my job to brief both Captains Rodis and Zimmerman on the true nature of this mission... we are protecting one of the potential meeting sites, but we wont know if our site is the real one until the conference begins. Intelligence is taking this seriously, for once. Peace with the Klingons is an important thing for the Alpha Quadrant, especially after what happened a few months ago. If this goes well it could usher in a new era of peace in our quadrant."
:: The Khitomer Conference. Probably one of the most important times in the Federation's history. Everyone knew about the Enterprise's involvement in making sure the conference occurred, but Sol doubt very much that people knew the names of the other ships that made it all possible. Peace with the Klingons was brokered, and her grandmother had been right, it had ushered a new era of peace in the quadrant. Sol gently pulled out a small case from the box and popped it open, finding some of her grandmothers service ribbons. She ran her hands over them, stopping on a rather non-descript one that just displayed the insignias of both the Federation and the Klingon Empire on a simple black background, and small plate below it simply stated 'Khitomer Decoy'. Sol smiled, while her grandmother hadnt been at Khitomer, her ship had served to obscure the real location. Sol closed the case and set it back into the box. These were not her awards, but she would keep them safe. ::
McLaren: Play another log entry. :: Sol sifted through the box again, pulling out a picture, taken on the bridge of the Kongo. It was clear this was the senior staff, including her grandmother. A small caption was engraved on the bottom portion of the frame; 'The final flight of the Kongo.' No one looked sad about that fact though. ::
"Second Officer's Log - Stardate 9715.9
The Kongo has been tasked with studying a rare spacial anomaly that passed through the Sol System a week ago. I find myself conflicted, while studying anomalies is what Starfleet is all about, as far as a last mission goes, its pretty dull. Still the Kongo is an aging ship, full of her own problems. For a Constitution-class, she's lasted quite a long time. I've served as her intelligence officer for 15 years, and been her second officer for of 8 those years. She's seen her fair share of fighting, but its time for a new ship to take her place, with a new crew. I've heard rumors that Starfleet is constructing a new Kongo... an Excelsior-class, maybe they'll send me there... but it'll never be quite the same as this Kongo."
:: Sol smiled. The Kongo had been her grandmother home for a long time. It surprised her just how long though, because she herself had already been through 2 ships. ::
McLaren: oO I guess it stands to reason that since Starfleet was smaller back then people wouldnt switch ships as often. Oo :: Sol stood and found a place for the picture. She then strolled over to her terminal, and found that the chip only contained one more log entry. She tapped it. ::
"First Officer's Log - Stardate 9824.4
The rumors were true. Starfleet has commissioned a new U.S.S. Kongo, NCC-1710-A. She's an Excelsior-class, so she packs a bit more of a punch than my old ship and is much much larger. Much of the crew from the old Kongo were reassigned elsewhere, but a few of us were reassigned to this new one. I guess Starfleet was pleased with my service aboard the previous Kongo, they made me first officer, with Captain Rodis' recommendation. Even though he's retired now, its nice to know he still thinks highly of me. I'm due on the bridge in a few minutes, we're getting ready to leave spacedock for Oby VI. We're bringing a scientific and medical team to help contain an outbreak of plasma plague there. A fitting first mission for a new ship."
:: A new ship. A new position. Sol smiled. Her grandmother had gone from Intelligence Officer on an outdated starship to first officer of one of the most powerful Starfleet vessels of its time. Sol moved back to the box, wondering just what she would find now. She gently pulled out another carefully wrapped object, and unwrapped it, laughing to herself. If she hadnt known any better, she would have thought the box was purposely put together by her mother. She turned the model starship over in her hands. The Excelsior class had gone through one major change throughout its life time, and this model displayed one of the latter types. It, like the Constitution model before it, had 'U.S.S. Kongo' painted on the hull, but with the registry amended with the letter 'A' signifying that it was the second starship to bear the name. There was only one place this ship could go. Sol stood and placed it next to the other model. ::
McLaren: oO Hmmm... I wonder why this stuff was what she kept. Oo
:: Sol returned to her chair, looking at the opened box from afar. Her grandmother was still displayed on the screen behind her. Why had she saved these things in particular? Sol scanned the objects she had placed around her room, the Uniform that sat on the edge of the box, the two ship models, and the picture of her grandmothers last mission aboard the original Kongo. In a lot of ways, her grandmother sounded like her, not just vocally, but in her career direction. But there was a major difference, Sol didnt want to move up. Her rank didnt matter.
Or did it? She had enjoyed the previous day, not so much the events that had occurred, but the things she had to do. Maybe she should consider just where she wanted to be in the future. Sol glanced up at the ceiling. Had her grandmother gone through this exact same discussion? Where did she want to be? Maybe full command of a starship wasnt for her, but what about first officer? No. Maybe not for a long while, but Second officer seemed a reasonable goal, and she could still keep her position as an intelligence officer since a second officer traditionally held another position on the ship.
Sol stood and made her way into her bedroom, looking at herself in the mirror. The black of her uniform's collar clashed against her pale skin. She found herself wondering just what she would look like in red instead of black. Maybe that would be something to talk to the Captain about, in addition to filing her requisition for that new shuttle. :: 
Edited by aphelion
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