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Posted on Sun Jun 7th, 2020 @ 7:14pm by Commander Timothy Parker

Mission: E1 Only The Beginning
Location: Parker's Quarters
Timeline: MD10 || 2200 hours


The doors to his quarters had closed behind him, leaving Tim alone in the dark room. It was the first time all day that he’d heard the simple sound of silence. The ship had been underway on its return trip for several hours now. Tim had finally relinquished command of the bridge to an officer of the watch for just a few minutes in hopes for a fresh cup of tea. He would have to return to the bridge soon and continue watch over the ship while the crew either dealt with repairs or tended to some rest of their own.

Tim’s eyes surveyed his quarters, and soon realized any chance for peace had been minimized. His furniture and belongings had all been knocked askew by the events of the day. Thankfully many of his belongings weren’t fragile, so it was just a matter of putting things back in order for the second time in a week.

This was not the time to do it, though. He went over to the bookshelf where he kept a few pictures and odds and ends. Most of those were still standing, though they’d clearly be shaken. Tim’s eye caught a picture of his family. He took it off the shelf for a moment to see his parents, James and Linda, smiling and surrounded by Susan, the eldest child, Eric, and himself. The picture had to be almost 15 years old, and it was one of the last they’d taken as a family. Tim’s father had excommunicated him not long after Tim declared his intention to join Starfleet. One by one, his mother and siblings had done the same. On occasion, Tim would hear from Susan, but it was never much. He almost wished that she wouldn’t bother. Most times, it was better to know nothing at all than just a fragment of information.

Tim placed the picture back on the shelf and looked for a small blue decorative container. Normally, it was next to the picture. Tim instantly looked to the floor to discover that the container hadn’t just fallen. Its contents had spilled everywhere.

He knelt immediately and picked up the container. He started to collect the leaves in clumps, trying to salvage as much as possible. Andorian herb leaves were hard to come by in their unused state on this end of the Alpha Quadrant, and Tim rarely sprung for a glass unless he needed a strong calming agent. These particular herbs were known to oxidize in a fashion that would ferment the beverage, but would have less alcohol than your typical ale or beer. The taste was akin to Chamomile, and was even more soothing.

Tim could only salvage about half the batch. The rest was too far spread out to be picked up for use. He rose to his feet and crossed the room to the replicator. It wasn’t until he got there that he realized that it was offline. Tim sighed. With no way to produce hot water, there was no way he was going to get that cup of tea before going back on duty.

He returned the container to the shelf and looked at himself in a nearby mirror. Tim hadn’t realized it until now, but his five o’clock shadow was darker than it usually was. His day had begun with the ship hitting the anomaly and he’d sprang out the door to attend to damage and repairs. His uniform had been soiled by events from the last forty-eight hours and he was appreciative that the Captain hadn’t said a word.

Tim began to change into a fresh uniform, hoping that the smell of laundered fabric would have at least a fraction of the effect the Andorian tea would have had. Moments later, Tim made the final adjustments on the uniform and entered the washroom to shave. This might be the night shift, but he certainly didn’t have to wait until the morning to feel like a functional member of the crew again and not one of the walking wounded.

The shave finished quickly, and Tim soon departed both the washroom and his quarters. He yawned as he walked down the dimly-lit corridor. Hopefully this business pulling double duty as Chief Operations and Executive Officer would soon come to an end. Only such a notice could end his streak of bad luck.


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