Lieutenant Etan Iljor - A Change Of Methodology

[Michael Meir-Wright]

(( Promenade, Deep Space 224 ))

The journey from Risa to Deep Space 224 had passed without incident, Iljor having spent much of it researching his new found responsibilities as Chief Science Officer. After the dinner party and embarkation, the crew seemed to go their own way, separate from one another. Clearly the scars inflicted by the destruction of the Resolution would linger for some time.

When he disembarked the Nebula-class starship, he felt instantly more at ease than he had done in some time. DS224 felt comfortable and familiar- like donning a leather glove in winter. The myriad of comings and goings, the throngs of beings, the music of Molly Malone’s, the chimes from the Vulcan Temple- the hustle and bustle of station life felt soothing.

Iljor found himself standing a little taller and as he caught a reflection of himself in a window he realised that it was because of the new golden pip now affixed

to the teal collar of his uniform undershirt. It reminded him that despite the malaise he found himself mired within, there were still people looking to him to be an example and that there were people that expected a lot of him. Oddly, he found such a notion comforting rather than intimidating. How far he had come.

Iljor strolled the Promenade, not looking for any one particular destination. He did not have anywhere to be and getting some exercise felt preferable to staying in another hotel suite. He passed by the front of Molly Malone’s and stopped to see if he could see Aine, but alas- it appeared she was elsewhere. And so he kept walking.

A somewhat familiar face came into view a little further along the Promenade. Iljor did not know Vitor Silveira all that well, sharing only the politest of small talk with the Tactical Officer. They had not been assigned together on a task and that was how Iljor tended to get to know somebody. Given that he was now a Chief Science Officer- that methodology seemed rather antiquated. Catching Silveira’s eye, he offered the man a cursory nod and a small smile.

Etan: Hello, Lieutenant. ::he said politely, clasping both hands behind his back.::

Silveira: Response.

Etan: How are you doing?

Iljor suspected it was a loaded question, knowing full wel that the human’s career hung in the balance over his actions on the Resolution’s final mission. He tried not to wince at his own stupidity.

Silveira: Response.

Etan: May I join you? ::he said, pointing to a vacant seat.::

Silveira: Response.

Etan: Yes, thank you. The chicken was cooked to perfection.

Silveira: Response.

—

Lieutenant Etan Iljor

Science Officer

TO BE DETERMINED

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