Lieutenant Aine Sherlock - Home Again

[Etan Iljor]

This was beautifully and elegantly written @Lt Aine Olive Sherlock. A stunning piece of prose!

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((Sherlock's Quarters, Deck 4, USS 'Oumuamua))
 

How many times in the last few years did she say to herself, "This is home now?" Although just a handful, there was no point in counting anymore. Nonetheless, each time, it was the truth. And the 'Oumuamua was home now. After the awards ceremony Aine had made her way back to her quarters. It wasn't an event for her so much as the crew that was there before her. She'd done her part to show her support, but she left before there was any further celebration.
 

Coming back to her barren quarters, it appeared that Operations had received a crate of her belongings that was deposited into the center of the room. When she left 118 it was on fairly short notice. She'd had less than 24 hours to get her affairs in order. And there were many. She'd seen Talar to tell him that their...arrangement...had to change. But she wasn't even sure what they were at that point. She had to set a plan in motion for her sister, Shevon. Currently an enlisted technician in Engineering who was taking classes at the remote campus on 118 to become an officer, but now choosing to test out and take her credits to work on becoming a Warrant Officer. She wasn't sure when she'd get to see Shevon again, but she left her the apartment and everything in it, only asking her to pack up some personal things of Aine's and send it to her. And now here it was.
 

She reached behind her and unzipped the small zipper on the back of the neck of her uniform's jacket so she could pull it over her head. She tossed it to the nearest chair before going over to the crate. When she popped the top she looked down and it was as if the past was looking up at her. A couple holo-photos lay there in their frames. Both of her as a cadet, one with Madison and the other of her and Mel. She picked them up and set them on the table.
 

Next was one of her old uniforms. Though it was only weeks ago, the grey shouldered uniform seemed old already. A past that was now just images in her mind like a video-holo she'd once watched. And packed between the uniform and some of her civvies, a pair of knives. One was an antique ceremonial knife from Cardassia that Sil had given her shortly after he'd arrived on the Resolution. That and a Bajoran earring were what he had given her after the crew vacationed on Bajor during the Gratitude Festival. The knife was the only possession of hers that had survived the destruction of the Resolution. Her friend, Meidra, had been running past Aine's office during the evacuation and ran in to see if there was anything she could save, and that was it. The other was a traditional Romulan honor blade. One that had been in Talar's family for countless generations, as he told it anyways. He had gifted it to her shortly after they had moved their friendship to a level just above being friends.

 

As she looked down on them, she got almost a sinking feeling. One she'd felt before. That feeling was one she hated. It was more the idea of living in the past. Ever since she'd left home, she always wanted to be moving forward, but sometimes the past sunk its claws in, dragging itself along for the ride. She snapped out of that frozen moment and put the top back on the crate. Picking up her PADD from the nearby table which lay next to the pictures she'd setup, she searched the database for her playlist of music, mostly traditionals, and queued it up. The one thing she did like about deep space explorers was the creature comforts, especially the fact that senior officers quarters had the most luxurious of those comforts, a water bath.
 

Sherlock: Computer, illumination to thirty percent.
 

The lights dimmed. The crate could wait. And a nice hot soak seemed the perfect first step forward into her new future.
 

fin

 

Lieutenant Aine Sherlock

Security Officer

U.S.S. Oumuamua

R239712AS0