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Bob Martens
Jun 17, 2011, 1:01:44 PM6/17/11
to startrek...@googlegroups.com
Earth Orbit, Starbase One -- Temp Quarters
Bob fell onto the bed in his newly acquired quarters and just laid there for a moment. It wasn’t that he couldn’t move, but that it felt so good not to be running for his life for even a moment that he just wanted to take it all in.
They had just arrived at the starbase and the others were already settling in for a short break nearby. He wasn’t entirely sure what they were going to do with their Vulcan friend at the moment, but those details would surely be worked out soon enough.
“All I can hope for now is that we’ve lost those crazy people for a while and can try and start to piece this all together.”
Sitting upright, he walked over to the replicator and got a glass of water. It was refreshing, but not all he needed. After a short shower and a change of clothing, he felt better and ready to move on to the next piece of business at hand.
The door chimed.
Moving his hand onto the desk in the room to grab his personal phaser, he was quick to place it behind his back before allowing the person to enter.
“Come in.”
The doors parted and there was Admiral Becker, standing with a grin on his face.
“I’ve heard some rumblings from Earth concerning some live-fire exercises,” he said as he walked over to the replicator himself. “We don’t hold live-fire exercises on Earth … ever.”
Relaxing slightly, Bob allowed himself a little humor at the moment. “I guess we just wanted to test out a few things before we left. I hope we didn’t leave things too badly scarred in the area.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve handled any unauthorized craft usage problems you might run into,” he took a drink of what must have been a foul-tasting alcoholic beverage. “I do have to say that I’m impressed, you are making some people very angry and yet you still make it out in one piece.”
“I guess you could call it a “trial by fire.” It’s what we do,” Bob said as he took a sip of his own water. The soiled uniform could be seen on the floor. Granted, it was just a partial uniform, the part that had still been on him when he arrived at the starbase.
Becker nodded. “True enough. Regardless, you’ll need to continue assembling your team because you are going to be shipping out to Deep Space 6 in a week.”
There was silence.
“That’s it?” Bob asked.
Becker set down his glass, now empty. “Yup. One week.”
He turned around and walked out of the room, leaving Bob again to himself.
Shaking his head, he headed over to the terminal in the room and typed in a simple message for his team.
You have one day to rest and then meeting tomorrow, here.
Time to sleep.
--
Sincerely,
Bob Martens
http://bobmartens.net
@boblmartens
Bob fell onto the bed in his newly acquired quarters and just laid there for a moment. It wasn’t that he couldn’t move, but that it felt so good not to be running for his life for even a moment that he just wanted to take it all in.
They had just arrived at the starbase and the others were already settling in for a short break nearby. He wasn’t entirely sure what they were going to do with their Vulcan friend at the moment, but those details would surely be worked out soon enough.
“All I can hope for now is that we’ve lost those crazy people for a while and can try and start to piece this all together.”
Sitting upright, he walked over to the replicator and got a glass of water. It was refreshing, but not all he needed. After a short shower and a change of clothing, he felt better and ready to move on to the next piece of business at hand.
The door chimed.
Moving his hand onto the desk in the room to grab his personal phaser, he was quick to place it behind his back before allowing the person to enter.
“Come in.”
The doors parted and there was Admiral Becker, standing with a grin on his face.
“I’ve heard some rumblings from Earth concerning some live-fire exercises,” he said as he walked over to the replicator himself. “We don’t hold live-fire exercises on Earth … ever.”
Relaxing slightly, Bob allowed himself a little humor at the moment. “I guess we just wanted to test out a few things before we left. I hope we didn’t leave things too badly scarred in the area.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve handled any unauthorized craft usage problems you might run into,” he took a drink of what must have been a foul-tasting alcoholic beverage. “I do have to say that I’m impressed, you are making some people very angry and yet you still make it out in one piece.”
“I guess you could call it a “trial by fire.” It’s what we do,” Bob said as he took a sip of his own water. The soiled uniform could be seen on the floor. Granted, it was just a partial uniform, the part that had still been on him when he arrived at the starbase.
Becker nodded. “True enough. Regardless, you’ll need to continue assembling your team because you are going to be shipping out to Deep Space 6 in a week.”
There was silence.
“That’s it?” Bob asked.
Becker set down his glass, now empty. “Yup. One week.”
He turned around and walked out of the room, leaving Bob again to himself.
Shaking his head, he headed over to the terminal in the room and typed in a simple message for his team.
You have one day to rest and then meeting tomorrow, here.
Time to sleep.
--
Sincerely,
Bob Martens
http://bobmartens.net
@boblmartens
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