No Rest for the Weary
Posted on 15 Apr 2023 @ 12:55pm by Lieutenant Commander Derek Martin
384 words; about a 2 minute read
Mission:
Deus ex Machina
Location: USS Odin - Derek Martin's Quarters
Timeline: Yellow Alert
Starfleet was still Starfleet. Meeting Command, checking in for a physical, and getting his things stowed in his quarters. Well, that's the way it was supposed to work. Derek was never one for 'how things were supposed to work'. With the transfer orders in the computer banks and the log in the system saying that he was aboard and beamed over safely from the USS Cassiopeia, he headed for his assigned quarters, a couple of rolling bins in tow.
Here and there were still latent signs of ongoing repair. Something must have happened aboard the Odin before it rejoined the convoy. He didn't quite know what, but the evidence was still there. Oh well. It wasn't his circus and they were not his monkeys. Not yet, anyways. Trundling out of the turbolift and down the corridor, the wheels clattered in time with his boots as he made his way to his quarters.
Entering, he set one of his two bins aside and opened the second. The first thing he did was pull out an old battered frame. The edges of it were scorched, but the picture was still clear. He and several other people. Friends, they were, as their smiles and camaraderie were evident in the photo. He took a while to get lost in his memories.
There was a connection there, and despite knowing it, and feeling it, somehow when he saw the photo, it was like looking at someone else. It was his face, all right, but yet, not.
He sighed a little and pulled out a small obelisk statuette with an old clock in one face. It was only a few inches tall, and the clock no longer really worked, but he enjoyed the green stone. He was just about to turn back to his bins to get the next little knick-knack out when the klaxons blared and lighting flashed yellow.
"Now what?" He grumped and turned to leave his quarters. There was no rest for the weary. He'd have to do things the way they were more or less supposed to work, and check in with senior command. As he left his quarters to make his way to the bridge, he reflected that while there might be no rest for the weary, there was also no rest for the wicked.
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