LtCol Wes Greaves - Reflection

[Alora DeVeau]

Welcome back @Wes Greaves!

 

 

 

((Greaves Quarters, Deck 3, USS ‘Oumuamua)) 

With a light thud, Wes Greaves’ sea bag hit the ground of his quarters. A second thud marked the falling of the oversized bag in his left hand. A final third thunk signaled the resting place of the smaller briefcase from his right hand. The experience of carrying his things from the transporter room down to the gator deck was oddly reminiscent of his first day aboard the Embassy to Duronis II.   

 

As he thought about that memory from long ago Wes realized that wasn’t quite right. No, the feeling of dropping off his things in a new home was there, but everything else was off about the two different moments in his life. After a time he realized it wasn’t that today and that day as a second lieutenant were actually alike. Hell, when he got to Duronis he’d barely had time to drop his things off before he was in a briefing to go rescue a kidnapped officer. It was just the feeling he had at the time that matched what he felt now. A moment of contemplation for the future. A moment where his bags came to their resting place, however temporary or permanent that may be.  

 

Shuffling around the bed he dragged the bags into a spot closer to the closets and sat down. It was another aspect of this moment that was different. He’d lived in these quarters already. Wes had taken on a Battalion Command for the past six months, but before that he’d been the XO and the Marine Detachment Commander of this vessel. These had been his quarters for a time, and then they weren’t. Captain Winters had taken over for him on his reassignment and made them her own. Now they were returned to a blank slate, waiting to be filled once again by his personal touches. Personal touches he had never been very keen on doing. He would fill his office with the mementos of his career, but his living space had always been spartan ever since he was a young, enlisted Marine.  

 

With a smooth motion Wes slid a padd from his briefcase on the floor at his feet and activated the device’s display while striding to the bathroom. He splashed some cool water on his face with a free hand before connecting to the ship’s database. It’d been long enough that he’d been gone that Wes was sure many of the crew had taken reassignments as well in his absence. In a few quick seconds the Marine had the roster of the senior staff up. The skipper and XO he knew were unchanged. Getting a reassignment back to the fleet had taken some string pulling and the Commodore had assisted with it. Glancing through names though he was disappointed to find Jack Kessler’s name missing from tactical. Jack was a fine young officer – no, that wasn’t quite true anymore. He was a fine officer. Wes had to remind himself that time had kept passing in his absence here and Jack had really grown into his own while Wes had still be aboard.  

 

His eyes kept scanning the list. Aine Sherlock’s name jumped out at him as  unexpected and he raised an eyebrow. The security officer and him had briefly worked together to foil an assassination attempt aboard Starbase 118 a year or so back. He didn’t know her well at all. In fact, that sudden event had been the only time they’d met, but she’d struck him as supremely confident and competent.  

 

Another name jumped out that brought a smile to his lips. Toz. The doctor who’d once conspired with another to get him relieved of duty. Though, with honest reflection that situation hadn’t been as serious as Wes had made it out to be. Still, he was glad to see Toz’s name on the senior staff once again. She was a good doctor and a solid member of the crew. The memory made him realize that V’Len Kel’s name was notably absent, and Wes wasn’t quite sure how he’d felt about that. V’Len had become a royal pain in his ass. Insubordinate, obstinate, and impulsive. He’d lost count of the times V’Len had made a mission or tasking more complicated… or dangerous, than it needed to be. Yet, Wes and V’Len had formed an oddly close working relationship in spite of it all.  

 

Continuing down the roster cemented the feeling of newness contrasting with the sense of return. This was still the Oumuamua, but so much had changed so quickly. It begged the question. Is the ship the sum of her components, or the ship the sum of her crew. Wes knew that answer firmly and with certainty. The ship was her crew, and this crew was new to him. There was the old and familiar. V’Airu, Iljor, Arlil, Brodie, and Promontory. There was the new. Nilsen, Herrick, Yinn, and Maxwell. There were the odd reunions. Toz and Sherlock. Above all however, there was the name that made this home. 

 

Katsim Peri.  

 

Tossing the padd onto his bed, Wes straightened a few wrinkles from his shirt and made for the door. Peri was waiting for him at the docking port. He hadn’t told her he’d be dropping his stuff off early. In fact, he wasn’t planning on it at all. Something had just made him want to have this moment of reflection for himself. Now, with that moment gone, all he wanted was to see her. To pick her up in his arms and hold her.  

 

A whoosh signaled the opening of the door and Wes was off, destination: transporter room. Then to DS9, and to his love.  

 

End 

 

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Lieutenant Colonel Wes Greaves
Marine Detachment Commander
USS Oumuamua NCC-81226
E239702WG0
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