Commander Whittaker: Preening Pea[...]

[Rustyy_Hael]

(( CO's Office - StarBase 118 ))

 

:: It had been another uneventful morning in the Operations Tower Hub. That was, until Theo had been alerted to the distress call from the civilian cruise liner Meridia. He had braced himself for an emergency situation, but had pleasantly surprised- and amused- by the fact that the vessel's engines had shut down because of targ urine. He had had to stifle a chuckle, but had allowed himself a grin at the news.

 

Now the Meridia was safely ensconced in the cradle of the station's docking bays, where Rusty Hael's engineering teams were busy repairing the damage. For once, Theo was privately relieved he was no longer an engineer. He did not envy those unfortunate officers who were now draining targ urine from every square inch of the Meridia's warp drive.

 

Theo left it an hour or so before he ascended from lowest level to the door of Captain Taybrim's office. He rang the doorchime and the door opened a moment later. Poking his head around the doorframe. Seated behind his desk was Sal Taybrim, waving him in.::

 

Taybrim: Theo!  Just the person I was hoping to see!

:: 
Whittaker: Have you heard the news? :: with an unabashed grin. :: It was targ urine. How on earth... :: he trailed off into a snicker. ::

::Sal nodded, leaning forward.::

Taybrim: I did just speak with Captain Doreln.  She was mortified to find out the cause.  I get the feeling that her transition from moving freight around to taking a command where the vast majority of the people onboard are arrogant passengers has been a difficult one.

Whittaker: I think I can relate. :: not the first time, he was reminded of the vast difference  :: beat :: I hear that the Captain invited us for dinner aboard the Meridia this evening as a show of gratitude?

::Sal nodded an assent.::

Taybrim: I already accepted her invitation.  That's where you come in ::his dark eyes sparkled:: I promised her that I wouldn't be the only guest.  I need you to wrangle the senior staff - get them to come to dinner tonight.

Whittaker: That shouldn't be a problem. Although I hope that this dinner will be better than the last one we attended. :: he made a motion with his fingers indicated himself and Sal, while also recalling the misadventure almost two years before, a relic of which lay cooing quietly in a habitat near the Captain's desk.

Taybrim: She told me dress nicely.  I'm not quite sure what that means, but it is a fancy dinner on a very impressive cruise liner, so perhaps encourage everyone to wear whatever finery they feel most comfortable in.

 

:: For the first time since Theo stepped foot into Sal's private sanctum, his smile wavered. To many Starfleet officers 'finery' meant dress uniforms, and he was no fan of the white monstrosity that the service made it's officers and enlisted personnel wear. He visibly blanched at the idea. ::

Whittaker: :: with a note of despair. :: Dress uniforms?

Taybrim: ::He chuckled evenly:: Oh goodness, no!  No dress whites.  Just... nice dress.

 

:: Relieved, the smile returned to Theo's face. A formal dinner without that hated uniform was an idea that he could get behind. He nodded eagerly. ::

Whittaker: I think I can arrange that. Do you have any idea what you will be wearing? :: he asked, as he mentally decided on the ruby red suit he had brought several weeks previously. He had been looking for an excuse to wear it. ::

Taybrim: ::He shook his head:: I'm sure you have better fashion sense than I do.  ::He leaned forward and spoke in a nearly conspiratorial tone:: I actually like dress whites because I don't have to think about what to wear.

Whittaker: :: with a raised eyebrow. :: You are a strange, strange man, Sal Taybrim. :: a chuckle. :: What time is dinner?

 

Taybrim: ?

 

Whittaker: Understood. I'll have everybody dripping with opulence.

 

Taybrim: ?

 

(( Time Jump ))

(( Executive Officer's Office - Starbase 118 ))

(( Twenty Five Minutes Later ))

 

:: It had not taken Theo long to finish composing the memorandum to the senior staff and nor had he found it particularly taxing. He had had to alter some of the Beta and Gamma Shift duty rosters to ensure that every members of the Operations Tower's senior staff could attend- again not a difficult endeavour. He was sat behind his desk, checking the wording of the message he was about to send out and sipping leisurely from a hot cup of black, gingerbread-flavoured coffee. ::

 

To: Operations Tower Senior Staff

From: Commander Theo Whittaker, Executive Officer, Starbase 118 Operations Tower

Subject: Formal Dinner This Evening.

 

You are cordially invited to a formal dinner aboard the starliner Meridia this evening at 1900 Hours, Local Station Time. This is a show of gratitude from Captain Doreln for our quick response to her distress call. Attendance is mandatory, although you are not required to wear dress uniforms. Please arrive promptly and dressed appropriately. Any dietary requirements must be passed on to the Meridia's head of catering no later than 1600 Hours. Bring your best smile!

 

:: Smiling at the last comment, he was satisfied he had not missed any important detail and thus, he sent the message. Sitting back in his chair, he hoped the night would pass without a major incident. The last thing he wanted was for a repeat of last year's tribble convention. oO I hope Sal keeps a lock on Moby's habitat. Oo he thought with a snicker. ::

 

(( Time Jump ))

(( Meridia's Berth - Starbase 118 Main Hangar Bay ))

(( Time Index: 1855 Hours, Local Station Time ))

 

:: Theo caught sight of his reflection in the transparent aluminium window and- not for the first time since donning his suit- checked himself over. The suit fit perfectly and his hair was laid perfectly. A good job since there was enough product in it for five people. He had swept his fringe to one side in a prepatory style. The stubble he had allowed to grow into a quasi-beard had all been shaved away thanks to a last minute trip to a barber shop in the Commercial Sector's San Francisco District. He had gone back and forth about whether to keep the stubble or not, reasoning that without it, he looked like a 16 year old boy- not exactly something he wanted to project given his position in the station's command structure. In the end, however, he could not deny that he looked smarter without it and so he had had it removed. oO I'll just have to look like I'm too young for the academy. Oo. He nodded approvingly at his reflection, touching his hair for good measure. oO I look good! Oo he thought to himself.

 

Turning to the gangway that led from the departure lounge and towards the Meridia, he realised that he was not the first to arrive. A moment later, it dawned on him that they had seen his display of vanity a moment ago. He could feel the heat in his cheeks as they turned red with embarrasment. ::

 

Whittaker: E-evening! Did you see that just now? :: he jerked a thumb to the transparent aluminum.

 

Aitas: It is my job to be observant, sir. 

 

Whittaker: I don't do that all the time, I really don't. oO Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP! Oo.

 

Aitas: ::still smiling:: You look good, sir. I find myself feeling as if I didn't have quite enough to properly prepare.

--

Commander Theo Whittaker
Executive Officer

Starbase 118 Operations / USS Columbia

C239203TW0