LTCmdr. Quentin Collins - History is Rarely Orderly

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Justin Partridge

Jan 1, 2022, 12:55:36 AMJan 1
((Interior. U.S.S. Arrow, Deck 5. The Living History Annex.

2 Days After The Midnight Planet.))

Quentin Collins took a step back and surveyed his handiwork. 

The item to the left looked drawing and charming from it's shelf. It was a specimen jar of soil, collected off the running boards of the Type 11 once things had settled down and general repairs had been done. The better part was though, that the soil still glowed slightly. It wasn't nearly as bright as the real McCoy, but still dazzled through it's mundanity. Like a jar of fireflies burrowing and swimming through a smallish terrarium.

The item to the right, however, was harder to look at for very long, but it was vital all the same. An Academy group picture of Cadet Amanda Crossley, standing amongst her graduating class. Smiling. Hopeful. And now...gone. Quentin had lost people before, but it never got any better or easy to bear. This was a special case too, as one of his own, the new Science Officer, had witnessed the whole thing. Rattling her throughout the time on the Midnight Planet, just as it would have rattled anybody. As it would have rattled HIM. He had read every report from the planet over the last few days. Punctuated with visits in and around the rest of the Science team. All except the one who really mattered.

Quentin told himself that he was just giving her space. Allowing her ample time to decompress and physically heal from the ordeal before attempting to talk about it with the new arrival. But in reality, it was because Quentin simply didn't have the words for her yet. He had some, for sure, as he would always have words at his disposal and sloshing through his mind at all hours of the day and night. But they weren't the RIGHT ones just yet. He needed them to be right before he would try and walk through the hellish things with her. He owed it to her. As both her section chief AND fellow crewmen. When she needed to talk, she would talk. Until then, he wouldn't press the matter too terribly hard.

Which is what let him here, once again in the dead of night (in transit, best possible speed, to their shore leave billet Casperia Prime, which he had heard was rather lovely this time of year), futzing with curios in The Living History Annex. A space he had grown quietly fond of over the months. He was about to sit a spell on one of the newly accrued (but still rather naff) loveseat that had recently taken up the empty wall space opposite the area's "main sitting area". Quentin truly didn't know how people had gotten all this stuff (AND SHELVING!) into this space comfortably, but he was very impressed with it all the same. 

But as he was saying and not at all drifting attention away from, he was about to sit when he was greeted by another welcoming and smiling face.


Despite the stiffness in his newly repaired hand (sporting a new odd criss-cross pattern trail of slightly paler skin through his knuckles and wrist), he crossed quickly and suddenly, reaching his arms out in a kneejerk reaction. He thought the better of it as he drew close enough, but then thought again, raising his arms awkwardly to her shoulder level. Only to then take another thought, dropping them again. Only then to raise them tentatively again...only to then just say, with an uncharacteristic finality...

Collins: Oh, toss it...

And wrap her into a warm and gushingly happy-to-see-her hug. He held it tightly for a few tenths of a beat and then released her, backstepping a touch as he did so.

Collins: I read the reports from the orbital team. I thought...I thought maybe you had...


Collins: Well, I am happy to hear it and see YOU all the same. 

He tried to change the subject smoothly but handled it with all the grace of throwing a hutch of bricks into a standing clothes dryer.

Collins: So, you like it? ::He gestures around the space:: I tried to tend it as best I could during your reassignment...



Lieutenant Commander 

Quentin Collins III

Chief Science Officer


U.S.S. ARROW NCC-69829

ID: E239512QC0



(SB118 Forums

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