Star Trek

USS Ochoa

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Checking In

Posted on Sunday December 29th, 2019 @ 2:09pm by August Saldivar & Tayran Wayne

Mission: Mission 0.1: Coming Together
Location: XO's "Office"
Timeline: Mission Day 580528 at 0930

Tayran had said goodbye to his family, at another meal. Dinner this time and with just the family. After that, he'd gone running and to the gym. Then after a shower and a change into a clean, freshly ironed(himself, not his mom though she had tried insisting.) He'd gone to the hearest transporter station and beamed aboard his new ride.

After dropping his duffle bag off at his cabin and taking a quick look around, he headed to the XO's office to report in for duty.

* * * * *

"What do you mean, there's no office for the executive officer? It's in the title: officer. How can you be an officer without an office?"

"Please restate request," the computer said in its pleasant, even tone.

August turned away from the control panel in disgust. Their first day on their first posting as an executive officer, their first time wearing command gold instead of operations bronze--their first time in the fancy new colorful uniform at all, actually--and already things were off to a terrible start. They stepped back from the unhelpful computer with a frown and looked around for anyone more willing to be helpful. A tall Human-looking man with dark hair caught their eye. He also wore command gold and had the rank braids of a lieutenant junior grade. He seemed to be walking with purpose, perhaps he would have information. "Lieutenant! Do you know the way to the executive officer's office?"

He looked at his fellow officer noting the braids on her sleeve. Shrugging his shoulders Tayran replied, "No I'm afraid I don't Commander. That is what I was looking for myself, I was reporting in. I'm Lieutenant junior grade, Tayran Wayne."

"Wow! How embarrassing!" Saldivar's cheeks flushed even as they broke out their trademark crooked smile. "For me, I mean, not for you. Lieu--uh, Lieutenant Commander August Saldivar, executive officer. I apparently don't have an office, or at least, the computer doesn't know where it is, so I guess that makes me an executive-at-large." August had never been very good at first impressions. "You're in flight operations, right?"

The brunette man chuckled "Well," he said this is a new ship or a newly refitted one from what I'm told, there are bound to be glitches. And yes ma'am, I am in flight operations."

"A word to the wise: Captain Stokes and I are both in the 'rank rather than honorific' camp. For me, it's because I'm nonbinary," August said evenly. With a touch of mischief, they added, "For the captain, I think she's still tickled about being called captain. She's new to the sitting in the center chair, and she'd never admit it, but that's my theory, anyway.

The junior officer's expression remained impassive, for the most part, though his mocha skin did take on a copper shade. "My apologies, Commander I should not make assumptions. I will remember to address each of you by your ranks going forward."

"So tell me about yourself, Mr. Wayne. How'd you come to be here with us on the Ochoa?" August started at a casual stroll in the direction the helm officer had already been heading when they met.

"Well I'd like to tell you that I've been a Boy Scout all my life and that I grew up reading the exploits of Jonathan Archer and Admiral Forrest and the like. But the truth is my parents weren't too fond of those historical figures they wanted me to stay as far away from Starfleet as possible. They are scientists and incredibly smart, but I think in another age they would have been described as hippies, or at least they belong to the counter-culture crowd."

I actually agreed with them but for different reasons. A boy I thought loved me talked me into helping him smuggle humnatarin supplies that actually turned out to be weapons."

"By the time I pulled my head out of my ass... Pardon my language Commander, and realized that I'd been played, I was in over my head. I wound up turning everyone in and chose a career in Starfleet over sitting in a penal colony."

"So, you're probably not going to see my picture on any recruitment vids, but I am a damn good pilot."

"I served on the Missouri during the war I was captured by the enemy and became a POW. I think Command sent me here because they didn't want me chasing pirates. They wanted me away from the action."

"What about you Commander, what's your story?"

Throughout the young man's story, Saldivar's eyes grew bigger and rounder. At his question, they barked out a laugh. "So casual! From a reformed smuggler to a POW stint to 'how about you?' Are you sure you aren't half Argelian? We're a relaxed people." They were struck by the inadequacy of Starfleet records--it was one thing to read the dates, the figures, the psychological analyses that made up Wayne's file, but to actually hear him tell the tale was quite another. People were more complicated than facts. "Have you ever heard of Argelius II?"

Tayran could see that they were paying attention to him and given their facial expression his story had, made an impression on him. He just wasn't sure what that impression was.

"Only in passing Commander, I'm afraid I don't know much."

"Take all of the stereotypes about Risa--the pleasure focus, the relaxed attitude toward social niceties, the disregard for procedure and order--and remove the tourism aspect. That's Argelius, as far as most people are concerned. Then take me: not relaxed, very much appreciative of procedure and order." August spoke like they'd given this speech before. "You'd think that I'd haven't gotten the orderliness from my father--he's Human--but the truth is that he's just as much into the whole pleasure cult as my mother. You can see how I might not have fit in on my homeworld."

"I can certainly am empathetic to your situation Commander. You do sound like your own person, that's important. I can appreciate those are precise and detailed oriented."

"I promise to be on my best behavior."

August nodded. They appreciated an officer who tried to make a good first impression--and hopefully, this small mountain of a man would prove focused enough to maintain it. "Very good. Now that we've met, is there anything I can do to get you settled aboard ship?"

"No..." he stopped himself from saying ma'am," Commander, I can't think of anything."

"Oh, there is one thing, my brother wants to meet me for dinner tomorrow evening around 1800, a final farewell. Is there anything on board ship, that would get in the way of that?"

The executive officer reviewed the ship's launch plans in their head. Beyond the usual ship-launching chaos, there was that problem with the torpedo supply to figure out... but they needed to talk with Captain Stokes for permission to launch that particular expedition. "Right now, no. If anything comes up, I'll give you as much notice as I can."

"Thank you, Commander, I'll let him know we have a tentative yes. I appreciate it. At least I think I do, he talked about surprising me and with Michael that can be just about anything."

"I'll be sure to alert security, just in case," Saldivar said seriously.


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