PNPC Commander Etan Iljor - The Future

[Michael Meir-Wright]

((Deck 4 Saucer, USS Octavia E. Butler))

((Time Index: 2155 Hours))

With his standard issue duffel bag slung over his left shoulder, Iljor stood silently in the turbo lift as it travelled the short journey from Deck 2. His eyes closed, he centred himself in silent contemplation, offering a prayer of thanks to the Prophets.

He was about to depart the Octavia E. Butler.

The turbo lift slowed and he heard the doors part. As he opened his eyes, his breath caught in his throat. On either side of the corridor stood a sea of familiar faces, all stood to attention, their uniforms pristine.

He had not been expecting this.

Touched and humbled, he made his way down the hallway towards Transporter Room One. Half way there, he saw Lia Rouiancet blocking his way, her face flushed. An emotional smile bloomed across his face.

Etan: This is quite something, Captain.

Rouiancet: Don't say that until you see what it is.

He had not seen the case she had been holding until she handed it to him. Curious, he accepted it and- holding it in both hands- flicked the latches open to reveal its contents.

Rouiancet: What you said earlier, about Avander being an ensign when you met him, got me thinking. It was quite the ship gossip when you were assigned, and you had a private dinner with the commodore, Avander, and Peri. They told me the first drink you had on 'Oumuamua was an Altair water, probably for nerves, and I thought, well, that sounds perfect for a new CO. Et voila! Altair water, not replicated, straight from the source.

Iljor laughed, a whirlwind of emotion somewhere between exhilaration and sadness. Exhilaration at returning to Oumuamua as her Captain, sadness at saying farewell to the crew that had become his family.

Etan: Thank you, Captain. :: he said with naked gratitude. :: I’m touc-

Movement behind Butler’s captain distracted Iljor, and he saw the familiar face of Aine and Lieutenant Maxwell. He grinned to them both.

Sherlock: You know you're going to do great.

Maxwell: (offering his hand to Iljor) That he is.

Iljor grasped the Scotsman’s hand and shook it in a tight grip. The two had not know one another very long, but they had become fast friends. Just as he and Aine had when they had met on Vulcan during his first day as a commissioned officer.

Any: Response

Rouiancet: Oh yes, no doubt about that.

Etan: Thank you. :: he said looking between Lia, Aine and Max. Then he looked around at the assembled officers, still stood at attention. :: All of you. It has been my honour to serve with you.

Sherlock: I just wanted to come by to say (beat) well, I don't want to say goodbye, because I'm sure we'll see each other again. But... 

Etan:  But…? 

Sherlock: I'm just (beat) really proud of you. And (longer beat) I'm gon miss ya.

Iljor gripped Aine’s shoulder affectionately. They had been friends for as long as Iljor had been in Starfleet- and had spent most of that time serving together. It was going to be another adjustable to a ship without her.

Rouiancet: That goes for all of us.

Etan: Not half as much as I’m going to miss you. :: he said in a voice threatening to crack under the emotion. ::

Maxwell: Aye, it's a shame we didnae serve longer taegether but its been grand. Milly's going tae miss you as well, no that she'd ever admit tae it in public. 

Etan: It’ll be our secret, Max.

Sherlock/Any: Responses

Into his hand, Max placed a framed still image of the two of them surrounded by an array of cheesecake. So the secret was out! Whoever had taken the image had done so discreetly, but it mattered little. He knew that it would go pride of place on his ready room desk- next to a slice of cheesecake, naturally.

Maxwell: Bit ae something tae stick in your new quarters. 

Rouiancet: Or your ready room. Let the new crew know you have a softer side. (beat; raising an eyebrow at Max) Or that you're friends with rough-and-ready marine officers, who wouldn't hesitate to step in and toss a misbehaving lieutenant out an airlock.

Etan: Oh, definitely my ready room. :: he responded with a wink.::

Sherlock/Maxwell/Any: Responses

Rouiancet: Well, we shouldn't delay you any further. Do you need help with anything?

He gulped. It was time. This was it.

He shook his head, bundling Max’s present into the case of Altair Water bottles. Accompanied by the trio he stepped into the transporter room. Ascending the pad he dropped his duffel and the case and turned around to look at the three one more time. His eyes found them one at a time.

Etan: Walk with the Prophets, all of you.

Rouiancet/Sherlock/Maxwell/Any: Responses

His eyes slid to the transporter chief and he nodded.

Etan: Energise.

As the blue-white whorls of energy took him, Commander Etan Iljor departed the Octavia E. Butler…

…and stepped into his future.

OOC: And that’s a wrap on Iljor…. for now.

—

Commander Etan Iljor

Commanding Officer

USS ‘Oumuamua

as simmed by:

Commander Margaret Walker

Director of Intelligence

Gamma Flotilla Expeditionary Taskforce.

Assigned to:

USS Octavia E. Butler

C239203TW0