Changes of Scenery
Posted on Wed Mar 20, 2019 @ 4:52pm by
1,033 words; about a 5 minute read
Mission:
Plaga Navis
Location: USS Martinson, en route to USS Victory-A
Timeline: Concurrent with “A Prelude to War.. sorta”
[USS Martinson, personnel deck, 1230 hours]
“Sir, we’ve almost reached the Victory.” The voice echoed through a quiet observation lounge, and went unanswered.
Olvan continued to stare out the deck at the slowly-approaching Prometheus-class vessel, leaning on one of the struts that bracketed the portholes, squinting a bit as if trying to analyze every architectural detail of the oncoming starship.
“Sir?”
“Oh!” Olvan leapt to his feet, whirling around, eyes wide. “Uh — I’m sorry, Ensign, I didn’t realize you were there.”
“Not a problem, sir.” The ensign smiled, casting a look over his shoulder and out the porthole. “It seems you’re already aware, but we’ve almost reached the Victory.”
“Yes, of course, thank you.” Olvan dusted off his already-clean uniform with some nervousness, not particularly wanting to admit that he wasn’t accustomed to being called ‘sir’.
With a nod, the Ensign gestured back at the door to the corridor. “Your belongings have been arranged in the shuttle bay, sir. Lieutenant Petrosyan will be piloting you and some of our non-transportable cargo to USS Victory shortly after arrival.”
After a long breath, Olvan straightened out his collar one last time. Think relaxing thoughts, he told himself, even while admitting he didn’t really know what that meant. “I, ah, I understand. I’ll be at the shuttle bay in fifteen.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant.”
Olvan physically flinched at the sound of his rank being spoken aloud, just a little. Whether the ensign noticed or not, she inclined her head, then turned and stepped out of the room, her duty complete.
Turning to look at the porthole again, Olvan caught himself biting his lip, and not for the first time that day.
* * *
[USS Edwin Hubble, Ready Room, three months prior]
“Linguistic Specialist? That’s amazing! I — Thank you so much, Captain!”
Captain La’Shon Walker smiled at the excitable Petty Officer, holding up the PADD in his hand. “Congratulations, Mr. Olvan. You’ve done a fine job with the science team on the Hubble, and Commander Tevek speaks highly of you.”
Olvan smiled. “Hard-working, if excitable, I bet he said.”
“Something like that.” Walker’s smile grew just a bit wider. “Petty Officer Olvan, you’re presently in the midst of a correspondence course with the University of Lagos, are you not?”
“Ah — yes, sir!” Olvan straightened up, just a hint of pride creeping into his voice. “I’m into what would be third-year-equivalent coursework, give or take, sir.”
“Good, good.” The captain offered the PADD another glance before setting it down. “Petty Officer, you have been assigned the position of Linguistic Specialist aboard USS Victory, Task Force 38, Palomedes Group.”
With a soft gasp, Olvan’s eyes grew nearly as wide as dinner plates. “Th...thirty-eight, sir.”
“That’s correct. You’re being assigned to the Delta Quadrant. That also means, of course, that in this new, post-Epatha era, you’ll be out of touch with Starfleet Academy — and the University — for considerable amounts of time, of course.”
Olvan heard, and also didn’t hear, mind racing with the possibilities and the apprehensions of such a remote posting, all simultaneously. “I...uh...I’m sure I’ll be able to keep my studies up, situation and available course material permitting, sir, of course.”
Walker chuckled. “I know. I’ve never once heard anything to the contrary from your section chief. Mr. Olvan, I assume you are aware of the opportunities available to Starfleet members, even without Academy training, with an accredited university degree.”
“O-of course.” Olvan fumbled for the glass of ice water the Captain had replicated for him upon his arrival in the ready room.
“Excellent. Given the relative lack of educational access you were provided in your youth as compared to other Starfleet crewmembers of a similar rank and track, given your service record to this point, and with the endorsement of Lieutenant Commander Sobek, myself, and one Captain Claire Lee, USS ch’Thane, you have been offered a promotion, contingent upon your maintaining your academic performance and completing your degree within a reasonable amount of time. You’ll be out of touch from the Federation for extended periods of time going forward, Mr. Olvan, and Starfleet’s making a special exception as a long-term investment in you.”
Eyes unable to leave the hints of steel in the Captain’s gaze, Olvan found himself shakily raising the glass of ice water to his lips.
Walker reached out and pushed the PADD towards Olvan, across his desk. “Congratulations...Lieutenant.”
Olvan burst into a violent cough, inadvertently inhaling the full gulp of water and spilling the remaining contents all across the Ready Room’s carpet.
* * *
[USS Victory, Shuttle Bay, 1310 hours]
“That’s the last of your stuff, Olvan. Deck Chief says it’ll go to the right quarters, so don’t worry about lugging it yourself.” Lieutenant Yana Petrosyan gave her traveling companion the thumbs-up from the hatch of the shuttle, already being unloaded by the Victory’s crew.
Olvan returned her a wan smile. “Thanks, Yana. Long trip here wouldn’t have been the same without you.”
Yana grinned in response. “Course it wouldn’t. Everyone should be so lucky as to meet me — even if you were the quietest you’ve been all trip. Now, cheer up, Spots, and remember what I said. Head down, do work, be yourself, you’re gonna be fine.” She ducked a head back inside the shuttle, then glanced back out again. “Good luck, Olvan.”
“...I...thanks.” Olvan swallowed, a bit conspicuously, and looked around the shuttlebay. “Have, um...have a safe trip. Back, I mean. Like to the Martinson, specif—“
“Will do,” Yana chuckled, and the side hatch slid shut as crew moved the last couple of containers out of the shuttle’s rear.
Heart pounding, Olvan turned and looked up at the shuttlecraft sitting motionless on the deck next to him, reading the letters along the side of the hull plating.
USS VICTORY NCC 9754-A
He took one more deep breath, swung about, and began to make his way towards the rest of the shuttlebay, squinting as he looked for the turbolift.
All that travel, and he was still only getting started.
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