Transition

Posted on Sat Dec 28, 2024 @ 10:35am by Senior Able Deckhand Cleo "CJ" Janice Williams

Mission: Collecting The Ship

She reread the job acceptance letter she received. Part of her felt almost guilty for how quickly she was able to find a job after resigning from Starfleet. She had kept her civilian credentials up to date her entire Starfleet career. Between the two she knew how marketable her skills were. But in another facet, it was almost too easy. Her anxiety brain started murmuring things. She switched messages to another with details of her new assignment. She needed a refocus. A Centaur Class. She had seen them for sure, but had never step foot in one. Details of the helm control brought her mind new focus.

Her concentration was broken at the sound of the shuttle arriving. The trip was short from the Federation Station she had boarded from. There were only a few other people in the shuttle with her, she assuming they were all new hires for the company. She didn't know much about the company, but it seemed to have a good reputation from the sources she could conjure up. It was a stark difference inside the company's station versus the Federation station she just left. Dingy, slightly cluttered, and a smell she had forgotten years ago. This wasn't a front facing area for customers. This was the work space that was kept as tidy as people were given time to do. A passerby took pity on the fresh faces, pointing them each in the direction of their new ship.

"You can follow me, I'm going by that dock," The passerby said to CJ, who nodded and fell into step a half step behind him. "The onboarding process here has never been smooth. I was lost in the station for half a day until I found where I was supposed to be," the man continued to say, as much to himself as to her. "This placed ain't too much a maze once you do a few laps." They walked in silence for a few more minutes until he piped up. "Time we parted, take this right, down the corridor. You'll see the sign for Vela, good luck!" He didn't wait for a response, going left. She continued on the described path to a lit screen confirming the ship's name. The hiss of the hatches allowed her out of the station, through the umbilical tunnel, and onboard the vessel.

The vessel had that old smell, she didn't know how to describe it. The corridors were at emergency lighting, which didn't surprise her. No reason to run things full power in areas that weren't inhabited. No pomp and circumstance, no security. It was a cultural shock to her Federation mind, and a cultural revival to her younger self. She found directions on her PaDD that led her down multiple corridors to her quarters. She dropped the few bags she carried with herself. She had a cargo transport scheduled to bring her remaining possessions. She checked the schedule, finding herself ahead. It wouldn't be for another hour until her designated check in time with the Captain.

It gave her time to do some unpacking. She pulled the few truly prized items of hers and placed them on a table. She sat down on the chair, feeling a little more grounded now that she had turned the empty quarters into hers. A breath. A realization of a new chapter of her life. Real realization. Though no shortness of breath. No numbness in her fingers. She felt okay with this. She checked the time, realizing she would be late if she waited much longer.

She got up, straightened herself out, settled the last few items and looked around. She felt okay with this. It was a good transition, she hoped as she left her quarters to find the Captain.