Back to the Bunks

Posted on Tue Aug 7th, 2018 @ 8:42pm by Lieutenant JG Neza Glenn

395 words; about a 2 minute read

Mission: Mission 0 - Christening of Legacy and Crew Arrival
Location: Legacy Halls/Quarters
Timeline: 2261.182 0930

Temporary reassignment, that’s all it had been. Neza had ended up not enjoying her time away. Between family arguments and dealing with being told she was doing things wrong while reprogramming a set of sensors, she was tired of it. She when she was able to be back on the Legacy, she jumped at the chance.

She’d held her temper, barely, the whole time. Well, with Starfleet at least. With her family? A few choice words were used that would never be taken back. Since she’d done nothing spectacular, she was coming back the same rank she’d left: an ensign.

Did this bother her? No, not really. She knew people didn’t like her attitude towards things, or in general for that matter. She even got an odd look when she reported back in and gave her ID. But, it was nothing new. She was sharing quarters with...someone. Only thing she did hate about her rank was this. Otherwise, she hoped people would leave her alone.

Luckily, this time around, instead of an actual bunk-bed setup, Neza found that the room was laid out so that she and whoever she was rooming with could have their own areas, and didn’t have to worry about the bunk-bed situation. Being the first one there, she picked the spot that looked the most comfortable and tossed her bag onto the bed, claiming it as her own.

She’d not heard anything about who would be filling in as the chief of the department yet, but in the end, they decided if she was given bridge duty or not. She could hope, and at the same time, she liked being able to be hidden away monitoring sensors from a distance. “Maybe this time will be different,” she said out loud to no one.

But Neza knew that she couldn’t hide away here the whole time. There was quite a bit to do before they were able to head off. She found a mirror over near the bathroom and walked over, looking at herself in it. Tugging at the bottom of her uniform, she wasn’t a skirt person. How did Starfleet come up with these things anyways? But, she’d worn them for a while, and would keep doing so until told otherwise.

Now, where was it she needed to go again?

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