Ensign T'Fearne - How can I help?

[+ LuxaLorana]

Fantastic first sim from the newest recruit to the Ronin! Welcome aboard T'Fearne!

 

 

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((OOC: This is the first sim that I have started . It takes place shortly after graduation and receiving transport instructions to DS33 in the Alpha Isles with orders to report to the commanding officer of the USS Ronin for security officer duty assignment.))

((Commercial Sector: Beta Module - Deep Space 33))

T’Fearne paused to check her reflection in the catwalk’s viewport, adjusting her collar to ensure the shiny new pip denoting her recent promotion to ensign was perfectly aligned. This close to the glass, she could focus past the reflection of dark eyes, curly brown hair and slightly slanted brows and see the glittering sea of deep space winking at her. The hum of the station systems provided a somnolent backdrop to her thoughts, even as the anticipation of her new assignment on the USS Ronin pulsed through her.

T’Fearne: oOYou are but a speck of light in the vastness of space.Oo ::Reminding herself:: oOJust relax.Oo

((Flashback - various shuttles and transports))

The journey had been long and eventful, filled with an array of spacefarers and travellers. Several fellow passengers had accidentally jostled her on the transports as they navigated cramped confines. The sensation of abrupt foreign emotions splashing against her skin had been overwhelming at times, reminding her of what it had first been like at the academy before she had found her balance with the cadets and instructors around her. Now, she would go through it again on the Ronin, but the brief and occasional discomfort of meeting new people was a small price to pay for the promise of finding that balance again with a ship's crew.

((Main Arrival Vestibule: Deck 6 - DS33)) 

She had arrived at the station and was told to “cool her heels” by a human officer in administration when she asked about an arrival time for the Ronin. She had heard similar colloquial slang at the academy. At least he hadn’t told her to “Keep her shirt on” like one cadet in her engineering class. While she waited, she could at least explore the station that would be her ship’s safe harbour.

((End of Flashback))

((Commercial Sector: Beta Module - Deep Space 33))

She turned from the glass to lean on the rail of the catwalk and gazed down at the marvel of gleaming metal and bustling activity that was the commerce sector of DS33. She was greeted this time by a pleasant sensory bouquet: the aroma of exotic foods from vendors, the sight of strange alien artifacts glittering in shop windows, and the cacophony of numerous languages blending into a symphony of interstellar commerce. It was so very different from the basic utility of the Starfleet Academy and what she now realised was the opulent luxury of her family's House on Betazed.

From her high purchase on the catwalk, snippets of chatter drifted to her until a conversation in federation standard caught her attention. They seemed to be ensigns from the crew of another docked ship. She caught the name Khitomer, talking about a catastrophe.

Ensign 1: … hear about what happened to … and the Ronin?

Ensign 2: …lost the crew …and propulsion... major damage.

She pulled out her tablet and requested a station status update on the Ronin, but her ear tips went cold in apprehension. The ship had arrived towed by shuttle to the docking port in critical condition. 

She sent off a quick meeting request to arrange when she should report. After a few long moments, a curt acknowledgement came back with instructions to report to the captain’s ready room within the hour. 

She turned and began swiftly making her way to the docking port by way of her temporary station quarters to collect her belongings. Scanning through the notification more thoroughly as she walked. 

T’Fearne: oOOh no, that’s not good. Hopefully, there aren’t any injuries…over 70 fatalities!Oo 

Stopping abruptly in shock, she felt a short, stocky body crash into her back.

T’Fearne: My apologies. ::Turning distractedly to speak, the tablet still in hand, feeling a sudden spike of invading annoyance between her shoulderblades.::

Tellarite: How dare you insult me, Vulcan! ::Swelling up and baring ragged tusks:: You trod on my foot and made me spill my drink! ::Gesturing at a frosted bottle of a blue beverage, clearly whole and seal unbroken.

T’Fearne: oOI’m half Betazoid! Goddess, give me strength.Oo ::Raising one eyebrow and taking a deep breath, she steeled herself for tellarite diplomacy:: You should watch where you are going! Are you too blind to see what’s in front of you or too inebriated to stop in time? ::Pausing to gauge how he would take her response::

((Turbolift / Docking Port: Deck 6 - DS33))

It took 2 station security officers and 15 minutes of yelling and explanation before they arrived at a compromise, and T’Fearne could continue. The tips of her ears were now warm with the embarrassment she was hurriedly stuffing down in the turbo-lift.

T’Fearne: oOMother always said assertiveness and insults are how to deal with a tellarite. At least it partially worked, and he isn’t pressing charges. I really don’t need a negative report following me onto Ronin. Especially not now.Oo

Stepping out of the turbo lift onto deck 6; she caught sight of the ship she was assigned to through the observation windows: the USS Ronin - NCC-34523. It bore the scars of recent battle, its hull marked by jagged rents and scorched patches. The sight sent a chill down her spine, a stark reminder of the dangers inherent in space.

((USS Ronin - NCC-34523))

Showing her orders at the dock, she was waved through security, nodding at her future colleagues, and stepped into the airlock of the USS Ronin. Making her way to the Bridge, she saw a haggard crew in stained and some ripped uniforms, debris embedded into patches of the carpet, and flickering lights and consoles along the corridors. The smell of sweat and burned circuitry made her eyes water.

T’Fearne: oOWhat has this crew been through?Oo

((Turbolift / Bridge: Deck 3 - USS Ronin))

The turbo-lift doors only half opened on the bridge. She wiggled through in what she was sure would seem an undignified way. After announcing herself to the bridge and being directed to the captain's ready room, she paused for a moment, straightened her yellow uniform tunic and tapped the door chime.

((Ready Room: Deck 3 - USS Ronin))

Captain Niac: Response

The door opened, and she walked forward into the room. Pausing at a respectful distance, she braced.

T’Fearne: Ensign T’Fearne, security officer recently graduated from Starbase 118 Academy, reporting for duty, Captain.

Captain Niac: Response

She eased her stance into something more casual and accepted the firm handshake.

T’Fearne: Thank you, Captain. ::Nodding in thanks:: I can see the timing of my arrival is unfortunate. May I ask what has happened and how can I help?

She had mentally braced for it, but the moment their hands touched, she felt a hint of how he was feeling under the controlled surface. And more than one complex emotion at a time, a joined trill if she wasn't mistaken.

Captain Niac: Response

((Tag/TBC))

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Ensign T'Fearne

Security Officer

USS Ronin - NCC-34523

R240107T14