Farewell's a Party, Welcoming's a Chore

Posted on Wed Dec 29th, 2010 @ 3:33pm by Lieutenant Commander Jonathan Mantell

Mission: Hippocratic Hijacking
Location: Various
Timeline: Three days prior to Present Day

==Three Days Prior, USS Seleya==

[The time is 0500 hours.]

The drowsy response came mumbling out of the bedcovers. "No, it's not." Turning over, the blond-haired boy buried his head underneath his pillow, intent on drowning out the computer's synthetic annoyance. Today of all days, he wanted to sleep in. Couldn't the Captain have excused him from his duty shift today?

[The time is 0557 hours.]

Bolting upright, the boy shook his head. How had 0500 turned into 0557? Wasn't the computer set to remind him at three minute intervals? He made a mental note to check it later, and then erased it, remembering. After today, it wouldn't matter what interval the alarm went off in this room, not to him anyways.

As the boy named Jack quickly made his way to the bathroom, he passed the replicator. Lamenting over his missed opportunity for breakfast, the Miran activated the sonic shower and stepped in. In another five minutes, he was out the door, giving the replicator one last side-long look. If I could just make a single bowl of cereal... His mind told him otherwise, and he pressed out the door.

Along the way to Engineering, the boy thought he heard whispers in the hallway. Then again, on a ship full of Vulcans, that could mean anything. The double doors of Engineering parted, revealing the violet-hued gasses coalescing within the magnetically-sealed glass of the warp core. Was it supposed to be purple? He gave a cursory glance at the glass enclosure again, but dismissed the thought. No one seemed to be panicking, or even moving quickly. Surely his department full of Vulcans would have noticed something amiss.

Taking long strides, at least as long as his short legs could manage, Jack crossed the room to Ensign Havlek, the night shift Engineering Officer. The taller man -then again wasn't the whole ship's crew taller?- turned to peer at the young boy, raising his eyebrow. The boy folded his arms across his chest and glared at the youthful Vulcan. After a moment, he prodded the Ensign, "Uh, you going to report?"

The Vulcan regained his composure and nodded curtly, as Vulcans do. "Yes, Commander. The shift passed with few anomalies from our normal experience. There was a slight variance in power flow in junction 17 alpha at 0247 hours, but this was corrected by 0251 hours. A replicator malfunctioned on Deck 5 at..."

Ensign Havlek could go on and on like this all day if no one objected. The man just didn't understand the difference between a verbal report and a written one. Of course, with the latter arriving promptly on his desk every day at precisely 0620 hours, Jack didn't have the inclination to listen to the officer's entire speech. Not this morning. "Enough, Ensign. I get it, it was a pretty normal night."

Jack could have sworn he heard a snicker. He blinked and shrugged off the thought. Vulcans didn't snicker.

The boy nodded, knowing what was coming next. "Yeah, yeah, your report will be on my desk in the next twenty minutes. I'll be eagerly awaiting your oh-so-entertaining version of events for the past eight hours. Dismissed." It was all the boy could do to hold his composure. He'd made the mistake at first to giggle at the efficiency and reliability of Vulcans. That had earned him plenty of cold stares. Now he just satirically mocked them, which seemed to pass obliviously over the heads of most of his subordinates. It was a fair compromise, he thought.

Jack made a pass around Engineering, nodding at his department members as they continued their tasks without acknowledging his presence. It was another one of those annoying Vulcan habits that the Miran had reticently accepted. The boy brushed it off, ignoring the temptation of hurt feelings as he always did, and headed to his office. No bigger than a closet, it was just enough room for a desk and a chair. Not even a replicator, his stomach dourly remarked, choosing that particular moment to rumble. As if he needed reminding of hunger.

Having barely sat down in his chair, which felt strangely comfortable today, the doorbell sounded. Jack rolled his eyes but restrained himself from the exasperated sigh he would have liked to let loose. With the walls paper thin, no doubt the person on the other side would hear. Even Vulcans could have hurt feelings, as much as they would deny it. Somewhat reluctantly, Jack answered the impatient door, "Come."

The doors parted to reveal another Vulcan. No big surprise on this ship. The stoic crewman could have passed for a statue had he been any more still. Jack prompted him, and like a wind-up toy, the Vulcan began. "Sir, you're wanted on the bridge." That was it. No Engineering problem, no emergency, no warp core overload, nothing exciting. Just a summons.

Now Jack did sigh, "Sure, I guess." To no one in particular he asked, "Why not?" Just as Havlek before him, the Vulcan crewman raised his eyebrow when Jack stood up. Was this a thing today? The boy ignored him and headed for the door.

The bridge was quiet as usual when the young Miran entered. Yet the boy could feel all eyes on him as he walked onto the bridge. Attributing it to his last day on board, Jack addressed Captain T'Prev, sitting in her center chair, "You rang?"

At this point, the bridge erupted into laughter. For a moment, Jack laughed alongside, thinking his remark had finally broken through his colleagues' thick Vulcan skins and triggered their senses of humor. After a few moments, however, it became apparent that the laughter was not at a joke, but raccous, jeering laughter. Some even began to point, straight at the boy.

Jack looked himself over, seeing his shirt, jacket, combadge, shoes... "Oh no!" The boy felt his cheeks flush red as embarrassment swept over him, his hands struggled to cover his faux pas. He had forgotten to dress in his pants that morning!

[The time is 0500 hours.]

The boy bolted upright. He looked down at himself, lifting the bedsheets to confirm he was still wearing his pajamas. With a sigh, Jack uttered a single word of relief, "Whew."

==Present Day, USS Arizona==

A gentle tingling sensation washed over his body, making the boy giddy. As the sensation dissolved, it dissolved away the transporter room of Deep Space Six, replacing it with the smaller room on the USS Arizona. Stepping down from the transporter pad, Jack was greeted with the stares of a transporter operator and another crewman in a yellow-trimmed uniform. When neither of the crewmembers spoke to him, whic nearly sent the Miran into a fit of giggles over their likeness to the Vulcans he had served with on the Seleya, the boy took the initiative.

"What's shakin', fellas? Do I have to do the whole 'permission to board' thing or can we just assume it happened already?" Jack chirped brightly, with a grin all the while.

Finally, one of them responded, "Are you sure you're supposed to be here?"

"Well, you beamed me in, didn't you?" The boy explained, "Logically, I should be here, unless you intended to rematerialize me someplace else." Five years on a Vulcan starship could really rub off on a kid. Jack almost laughed at his own statement, but realized he would be the only one laughing at what must seem like an inside joke. Maintaining his bemused grin, the boy continued, "So, can I get going now or are you going to call Security and do the whole identity crisis routine? I've got my ID badge right here."

Somehow, that little document never seemed to reach the limit of its usefulness. If the blank stares he was getting from the crewman were any indication, that little card was going to have its fill of fingerprints by the end of the day.

Didn't anyone brief the welcoming committees these days?