Lt. Silveira: Here I go again…

[Bruno Abreu]

OOC: the soundtrack for this sim, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jNYyapWPrqI

IC:

((Silveira's Quarters - USS Excalibur))

The bugle and loud voice filled Vitor’s quarters as he woke up on his couch. He lost track of the time until he finally opened his eyes. The repetitive alarm playing on and on wasn’t helping as he expected when he set it up last night.

The fact he had done it when he had opened the second wine bottle was a sign of the impending failure. As for the millionth time he heard the words “WAKE UP” he finally opened both eyes, trying to figure where he finally crashed. Vitor closed them, with his sight sill blurred.

His head hurt, his back hurt, his neck hurt… Actually almost everything either hurt or felt wrong. Suddenly, when a burning sensation crossed his stomach and started heading to his throat he jumped from the couch. Running straight to the bathroom, the nausea and most violent side effect of the hangover made him wake up quicker than the everlasting annoying alarm clock he had chosen.

Clearing away the “ballast” of the evening’s drinking from his stomach, Vitor sat down on the floor, finally able to give the command to the computer.

Silveira: Computer, stop alarm clock.

Computer: ::Chirping:: Acknowledge.

Silveira: ::Closing his eyes:: Thank you.

Vitor almost leaned back, just for a minute, just for a little rest. But still with his eyes closed he raised himself, filling the wash basin with water and dipping his head down, keeping it under as long as his breath allowed.

He raised his head from the basin, water dripping down like in a waterfall from his hair beard and face. He looked up to the mirror, watching his miserable reflection.

Silveira: I am too old for this…

He went for another dive, this time keeping his head longer underwater.
Not that it helped his roaring stomach, massive headache and all the nice gifts that consuming three bottles of fine wine, one Port, one Douro and a Dão Red, bring to the human body.

Again raising his head, spilling water all over himself he walked to the living space of his quarters. Rubbing his wet hair and walking with his eyes shut, Vitor hit the corner of one of the boxes he had requested.

Silveira: FILHO DA P… PIMPINELA… ((Son of a B… Brunilda))

The stinging pain in his little right toe made his roll down in pain as he contorted himself, breathing heavily.

Silveira: ODEIO ESTA VIDA ((I hate this life))

Rubbing his toes, water dripping all over his shoulder and floor he shouted all his frustration in the empty room, in his first chosen language.

Silveira: NÃO QUERO IR, NÃO QUERO ((I don’t want to go, I don’t want to))

His eyes began to burn as he rocked himself sideways, and he wrinkled his forehead to one of his PADD’s that was down. Taking a deep breath he reached to it. The transfer message still bright on the screen.


//
To: Adea, G., Cmdr; Yalu, Y., Lt. Cmdr., Dakora, T., Lt., Silveira, V., Lt., Yellir, H., Lt., Sydin, A., Lt., Jovenan, Ens., Jones, H., Ens.

From: MacKenzie, A., Cmdr.


Subject: Immediate Reassignment and Transfer

 

To the above-mentioned officers: on orders of Starfleet Command, you are hereby requested and required to assume your same duty posts on the USS Artemis-A.

 

This transfer is effective immediately. When the Artemis arrives at DS 224, please see to it that any personal items are also expeditiously transferred. Any personnel or equipment requisitions should also be made directly to me at this time.
\\

He read it again, looking at the packed boxes in his quarters. He turned to see the empty Incalibur shelves, as well as the now cleaned up work desk.
Fortunately he had packed before starting to drink. Most of the stuff he would send to a cargo space he rented on DS 224. He had one box that he was going to sent to Andoria, the one with all the miniatures he had replicated, that one was going to Jonathan.

His ruffle bag had the bare minimum. His picture with Jonathan, his ribbon case, two PADDs with personal stuff. One spare uniform. More than enough for the new life.

He glanced at the message again and chose not to keep commiserating with himself.
Vitor stood up, forcing beyond the pains, new and old to stand up.

Silveira: Computer set me up a strong sonic shower, replicate a new Tactical uniform and confirm all the transfer of my cargo to the Artemis.

Computer: Acknowledge.

Vitor nodded, mentally thanking the computer. He took one last glance around the place. It was supposed to be his home, at least for longer than it did.
And again he was leaving it for another ship.

He rubbed his head as he limped to the bathroom.

Silveira: It’s not like I haven’t done it before… But I still don’t have to like it. Farewell Excalibur, hello Artemis…


End Scene for Sil

Lt. Vitor S. Silveira
Tactical Officer
USS Excalibur-A, NCC-41903-A
O238907VS0