SD241906.29 || Reporting-in Log || Finley Bell

Posted on 29 Jun 2019 @ 11:09pm by Captain Mallory Thorne & Lieutenant Commander Finley Bell III

880 words; about a 4 minute read

Mission: Thought & Memory
Location: USS Odin

=/\= Ready Room =/\=

Mallory was sitting behind her desk, as she so often did, reading through the latest reports. Her favorites of the moment were the ones from engineering and the flight deck to announce that both the Odin and its fighter group were repaired and they were be fully functional when the ship set out again.

This meant that the captain was in a good mood as she walked to the replicator for her we've stopped counting cup of coffee that day, just as the door chimed. "Enter," she called cheerfully.

Lieutenant Commander Finley Winston Bell III sauntered up to the Captains ready room. Finley looked down at his uniform, and he ran his hands down his chest and sides in a vain attempt to smooth his coat. Looking good, he thought to himself. The truth was, he did not look good. His uniform was fresh out of his bag where it had balled up, and it looked it. He bent over and pulled out a small flask from inside his boot, and looked at the very worn surface. There was a ghostly image of a Federation starship which had been worn away so badly it was impossible to tell which class it had been. Below the image was the almost illegible lettering that spelled "USS Bluefin".

Time for your medicine, he thought as he spun the the cap, and took a pull from the flask. He looked up at the ceiling for a moment as he swallowed and felt the warmth spread through his chest. Here we go. Song and dance. Finley stooped to put the flask back into his boot, and touched the button next to the door to sound the chime. He heard the Captain beckon, so entered and walked up to the desk as assuredly as he could muster. The gin helped. It always did, didn't it? "Good morning, ma'am. Lieutenant Command Finley Winston Bell, the third, reporting as ordered," he announced and saluted.

Mallory looked up at the latest person to enter her ready room to report in. It felt like she'd been doing this a lot lately... "Relax, Commander. Welcome aboard. Have a seat," she waved at the chair in front of her desk. She got up to her her not-gonna-admit-in-front-of-the-doc-how-many-th cup of coffee. "Can I get you something?"

Finley smiled. "I'd take some tea, ma'am," he replied.

With a nod, Mal replicated the tea and the coffee, handing one to the doctor and then re-taking her seat behind her desk. After a sip of the liquid concentration, she asked, "How was your trip out to Providence Station, Doctor?"

Mind-numbingly boring, filled with constant chatter of the bipedal cattle meandering through the universe... "Oh, it was lovely. I had plenty of time to read. Caught up on medical journals, that sort of thing. How long have you been serving on the Odin, ma'am?" he asked.

"Since it launched," Mal replied. "Which was just a few weeks ago." She chuckled. "This is a very new ship, set out on its border patrol mission. Given the presence of fighters and that it's a tactical vessel, I'm sure you'll have your work cut out for you often enough."

Lovely, I do enjoy sewing up tossers who insist on throwing themselves into the fray, "That's probably for the best. Old ships tend to get a bit cliquish, I find. They build up their own traditions and then when anyone new shows up they are an outsider rather than a crewman. That reminds me of an old joke," Fin started and sipped his tea. "A joke Marines tell. Older Marines refer to the way things were done 'In the old corps', right? Young marines just don't understand. Joke goes, a recruit walks into Tun Tavern in 1775 where the first Marines are being recruited. He signs on the ledger, they tell him to grab some ale and go wait with the others. The others turn out to be one man, our man being the second Marine ever. He sits down with his ale, and the first Marine looks over at him and says 'Son, let me tell you about the Old Corps...'" Finley said.

Mallory chuckled at that. "Can't say I've heard that one, although I haven't served on many ships with a Marine group aboard," she said. "No, there's no "old" anything here, except for a few of the people themselves. Although you didn't hear that from me." She smirked. "Do you have any questions about your posting here?"

You're the bloody Captain, my dear, so captain.. "Just whatever particular directions you might have for me, ma'am?" he asked.

"Just the usual," Mal asked, naturally unaware of the inward snark being directed at her. Lucky for him that she wasn't telepathic. "Get settled in here on board, set yourself up in sickbay, and get acquainted with your staff. Most everyone board had our physicals with our previous CMO, but a few new crewmembers may need to report in for that before we depart the station in a few days."

"Sounds easy enough ma'am," Finley replied.

Mallory nodded once. "Then I'll let you get to it."

=/\= End Log =/\=

Captain Mallory Thorne & Lieutenant Commander Finley Bell

 

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