Ensign Meris: Begin Day Watch
Meris/Brian
OOC: Occurs before the Awards Ceremony.
((Main Shuttlebay, Deck 7, USS Thor))
The USS Jörð settled onto the deck of the Thor with a soft mechanical sigh, landing struts locking into place with practiced precision. The shuttlebay smelled of coolant, warm metal, and the faint tang of ozone that never quite dissipated. Overhead lights reflected off duranium hull plates as technicians moved about their work in calm, efficient patterns.
Meris completed the shutdown sequence and exhaled slowly.
They unstrapped Olive’s carrier from the co-pilot’s seat and lifted it carefully.
Meris: Home again.
Olive offered no opinion, but their leaves shifted slightly as the Jörð’s hatch opened.
Meris stepped into the bay. The same maintenance worker who had seen them off approached, wiping their hands on a cloth already stained with grease and history. Their expression brightened when they recognized Meris and brightened further when they noticed Meris’ co-pilot.
Maintenance Worker: Hey. You made it back in one piece.
Meris: The Jörð performed admirably.
The worker glanced at the plant.
Maintenance Worker: And the special passenger?
Meris tilted the carrier just enough to give Olive a better view of the shuttlebay.
Meris: Olive endured the journey with composure.
The worker snorted softly. They were not entirely sure whether Meris was participating in the joke or genuinely unaware of it.
Maintenance Worker: Glad to hear it.
They tapped a few entries on a padd.
Maintenance Worker: Runabout is checked in. No new dents. I’m proud of you both.
Meris nodded solemnly.
Meris: Thank you. We did our best.
The maintenance worker shook their head, smiling, as Meris departed.
((Deck 5, Meris’ Quarters))
The corridor outside Meris’ quarters was quiet, the hum of the Thor’s systems a familiar, comforting presence. The door slid open with a whisper, revealing the compact interior.
Meris stepped inside with their cargo and paused. It seemed strange to be back here again. A good kind of strange, they decided.
The quarters smelled faintly of recycled air and the lingering trace of replicated citrus cleaner. Soft lighting reflected off smooth bulkheads. The quarters faced inward, and the false viewport on one wall broadcast an artificial view of the planet below.
Meris frowned slightly.
oO This may be insufficient. There is no natural light here. Oo
They set Olive down carefully and began a slow survey of the room. The desk. The small table. The nearly empty bookcase. None of it felt quite right.
Meris carried Olive from place to place, repositioning the plant each time.
It took three tries, then four.
They adjusted the lighting, increasing it incrementally.
Meris: Not too bright. Not too dim.
Olive remained unbothered, leaves broad and patient.
Meris retrieved a small mister from the replicator and lightly sprayed the African Violet’s leaves. Cool droplets clung briefly before sliding away.
Meris: You have been very cooperative.
They paused, head tilting.
Meris: I will endeavor to reciprocate.
Olive seemed confident the pilot would be true to their word.
Finally satisfied, with the plant centered on the dining table like an honored guest, Meris straightened and began to undress. They set their uniform neatly aside, revealing their undergarments beneath. The pilot moved to the open floor space of the living area, bare feet grounding against the deck, toes curling slightly into the thick carpet.
Rolling their neck, they let out a deep sigh and began their sha-rel exercises.
Slow inhalation. Arms rising in a wide arc. Palms turning inward. Weight shifting deliberately from one foot to the other.
The first movement centered the spine.
The second opened the chest.
The third flowed through the shoulders and down the arms, releasing tension stored there from weeks of anticipation and disappointment.
Meris’ breathing deepened. Muscles loosened.
They moved through the familiar sequence, tracing invisible currents, imagining themself part of a larger balance.
oO I am here. I am steady. I am in harmony. Oo
Olive observed silently from their chosen perch.
Gradually, the pilot’s movements became more fluid, more serene, as they relaxed into the exercise. And then, all too soon, they were done. Meris straightened and retrieved a towel from the washroom, dabbing at a bead of perspiration on their forehead.
Returning to the main room, they retrieved a padd and settled onto the couch to review messages. The week’s duty roster had been posted. When they found their name listed for the following day, they blinked.
Meris: Bridge duty?
A small sigh escaped them.
They had hoped for time on Seda. Blue-green oceans. Rings. Auroras.
But they nodded to themself.
Meris: It is only fair.
oO I have taken the last few weeks off to travel to J'naii. I cannot expect a vacation on top of my vacation. Oo
They set the padd aside and moved into the bedroom.
oO Perhaps Taj’el or Vharo will remember to bring me back a trinket. Oo
Olive offered no reassurance.
Meris slipped beneath the covers. Their eyelids fluttered, then closed. Within minutes, they were lightly snoring.
They had forgotten to set an alarm.
((Time lapse, 8 hours))
The chirp of an incoming call sliced abruptly through Meris’ sleep, and the pilot jolted upright.
Watch Officer: =/\= Ensign, you are late for your duty shift. =/\=
Meris’ stomach dropped.
oO Oh no. Oo
Meris: =/\= Acknowledged. I am en route. =/\=
They moved quickly. Too quickly. The uniform went on with far less ceremony than usual. Hair was gathered hastily, curls rebelling cheerfully despite the urgency.
They spared a glance for Olive.
The plant appeared to say, quite clearly, I told you so.
Meris: I apologize. I will explain later.
Olive remained dignified.
((Bridge, USS Thor))
The bridge was already alive with activity when Meris arrived. Displays glowed softly. Consoles chimed with data. Beyond the forward viewscreen, Seda hung serene and entirely unbothered.
A Lieutenant in a yellow uniform tunic stood at the center of the bridge, arms folded.
Watch Officer: It’s about time, Ensign.
Meris stopped sharply.
Meris: Apologies, Lieutenant. I take full responsibility.
They moved toward the helm where a junior crew member was already seated.
Watch Officer: Where are you going?
Meris froze and turned back.
Watch Officer: Helm is not your posting today. I should have been relieved fifteen minutes ago. Every other Night Shift officer has already departed.
For a moment, Meris was confused. Then realization settled in and they straightened.
Meris: Of course, Lieutenant. ::a pause:: I relieve you, sir.
The Watch Officer studied them for a moment, then quirked an eyebrow.
Watch Officer: I stand relieved.
The Lieutenant departed toward the turbolift, shaking their head and muttering something unintelligible.
Meris turned toward the command chair and took two measured steps towards it.
oO You are part of the Command Division, after all... Oo
They settled into the chair slowly, slightly surprised by the unexpected plushness of the cushion beneath them.
oO This is much more comfortable a seat than the helm… Oo
The command console activated near their right hand and Meris regarded it, entering in their command codes which the computer dutifully accepted.
Briefly the console flashed with the phrase, ‘Ensign Meris is now in command of the USS Thor, NCC-8582’.
oO I do like the sound of that… Oo
They cleared their throat.
Meris: All stations, report.
Around the bridge the sitting duty officers began to report in one-by-one.
Helm: Orbit stable. Impulse and warp standing by.
Operations: Resupply from Seda is seventy-five percent complete and should conclude by the end of Alpha shift.
Science: All surface teams accounted for. Environmental readings remain within expected parameters.
Medical: Six crew in Sickbay. Minor allergic reactions and moderate cases of inebriation. Nothing unusual for shore leave.
Engineering: We will be ready to depart once all teams return and resupply concludes.
Meris listened. Absorbed. Centered themself.
They also adjusted their tushy in the Captain’s chair for a more comfortable sitting position.
Olive was not present physically, but their calm seemed to linger all the same within the pilot’s psyche all the same.
The J'naii rested their hands on the armrests of the command chair.
Meris: Very well.
They acknowledged the officer’s reports.
Meris: Computer. Begin day watch.
---
Ensign Meris
Helmsperson
USS Thor
A240207M14