Ensign Meris: Order Meets Chaos
Meris/Brian
(( Turbolift - En Route to Deck 5 - USS Thor ))
Meris stood in the turbolift, one hand clutching the strap of their personal duffel and the other holding the data PADD that contained their orders. It was too late in the day to check in with the Captain or Executive Officer, so they had marked themself as having arrived with the Operations Duty Officer and then received their quarters assignment. Now, en route to their quarters, they considered just how far they had come since leaving the Artemis. They had never traveled by wormhole before - the long journey had been worth it for that experience alone.
They tapped at the PADD, scrolling to find the living quarters they had been assigned aboard.
Meris: Deck 5, Section 12, Cabin 6. Port midships.
oO It beats a view of the port Bussard collector like I had on Artemis. Oo
They tilted their head, imagining the view they would have and recollecting as best they could the Thor's deck configuration. They had spent some time while en route reviewing the deck plans and crew roster of the Vesta class explorer. This assignment contained many firsts, one of which was their first time stepping aboard a ship of this class.
The turbolift hummed gently beneath them as it made its way through the starship. Meris shifted their weight, glancing at the subtle seams in the bulkhead and the lights that flicked by deck by deck with a kind of affectionate curiosity. Soon the lift whirred to a stop and the doors slid open before them.
(( Deck 5, Section 12 - Corridor ))
Meris stepped out and followed the corridor until they found the cabin door. Cabin 6. Their name already appeared on the plaque beside the door, with their name, rank, and assignment neatly etched into its surface:
ENS. MERIS, HELMSPERSON
The corner of their mouth twitched upward. They were pleased to see that this time no one had mistakenly marked their placard with the incorrect moniker of “Helmsman.”
oO I wonder if a notation was added to my personnel file. Oo
(( Cabin 6 - Meris' Quarters ))
The door slid open with a whisper and Meris stepped into their quarters for the first time. It was clean. Predictable. Sterile in the way that all quarters started before someone made them their own. They glanced out the windows and saw the exact view they had expected. The stars streaked by silently as the J'naii crewmember looked out the side of the ship.
Meris moved through the main living area and stepped into the sleeping compartment, setting their personal duffel on the bed. They looked at it for a moment before cracking open the hard lid.
From within they pulled out their dress white uniform and hung it within the closet. They only kept two sets of clothes: a dress uniform and a standard duty uniform, which they were currently wearing. Aside from that, they removed a few black undershirts and an equal number of black underwear and socks, which found their way into drawers hidden within the closet shelves.
The J'naii pilot then gingerly removed a small crystalline disk from their duffel, pleased it had survived the trip intact. Although the J'naii discourage attachment to objects with individual sentimental value, Meris had kept this small transparent crystal disk since their naming ceremony as a child. It was a harmonic resonance token used in early childhood education on their homeworld. It had been bestowed on them by a family friend as an object intended to affirm their future role as an educator in J'naii society, and they kept it as a reminder that they would one day return to fulfill their birthright role - but not yet.
Meris stowed the personal duffel at the bottom of the closet and carried the crystalline disk back out into the main living room, finding it a place of honor on an otherwise empty bookshelf. They then stood back to admire the disk and found their eye drawn to the beige walls and matte trim of their room's regulation-approved, floor to ceiling blandness. The corner of their mouth twitched downward.
Meris: This will not do.
Starfleet regulations granted permission to officers assigned to a starship for more than six months to redecorate their quarters to fit their personal style. In fact, regulations practically insisted upon it. Meris had been told it had something to do with maintaining morale and mental health on deep space deployments. That suited the J'naii just fine. They stepped up to the replicator.
Meris: Standard pigment set, wide spectrum. Satin finish. Organic binders. No brushes.
The replicator whirred and deposited several jars of richly hued paint, which Meris carried back to the main room and set down on the dining table. They stripped off their duty jacket, tossing it over the back of a chair, revealing the regulation black undershirt beneath. They removed the hanging artwork and then stared at the wall thoughtfully.
oO What do you want to be? Oo
Without looking, Meris picked up one of the jars off the dining table and cracked open the lid. They took a deep breath, their shoulders relaxing noticeably, and then dipped their fingers into a deep cobalt blue.
Meris: Let’s make some chaos...
They stepped to the wall and placed a bold, swirling stroke of blue across the surface. Then came orange. Then magenta. The strokes were fast, instinctive, emotional - so unlike the quiet and chaste persona Meris often projected.
oO Structure is a necessity. But this ... this is freedom. Oo
Their fingers moved with increasing confidence, spreading the colors in waves, arcs, sharp bursts, and graceful curves. The mural took shape - a wild, vivid, joyful abstract.
By the time Meris stepped back to assess the beginnings of their composition, their hands were a mosaic of pigments, their forehead ridges were lightly beaded with perspiration, and the wall no longer whispered Starfleet uniformity.
Meris: Much better.
(( Ends ))
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Ensign Meris
Helmsperson
USS Thor
A240207M14