Posted Aug. 20, 2018, 10:16 a.m. by Cadet Alex Winters (Doctor) (Alexander Roth)
Alex came aboard the Challenger the same way, she supposed, that most every other Cadet in the history of the ship had: by being transported onto it.
As always, the first thing she became aware of as she gradually rematerialised onto the dais, while the operator slowly pushed the matter-energy convertor switch down into its resting position, was the shower of blue sparkles surrounding her. Intellectually, she knew they were a by-product of the countless carefully orchestrated particle collisions necessary to make the process work. Emotionally, it gave her the creeps. Every time. So as always, she had to consciously resist the urge the shake her head and shoulders even before they had fully re-materialized, as though she were a dog getting a ton of moisture out of its coat after a dive into the sea, shaking off the memory of it.
She’d never liked the transporter. It just didn’t sit quite right with her: the idea that a person could be scanned by a machine, essentially converted into a series of ones and zeroes for temporary storage in the pattern buffer, and then re-constituted from that pattern, using whatever random particles happened to be available on the other end. As a scientist and a doctor, she understood how it worked on a conceptual level. As a Starfleet Officer in training, she had experienced many times that it did, in fact, almost always work on a practical level, too. But as a human being, well … she barely tolerated it.
Her general lack of enthusiasm for the process must have shown on her face as her features became visible to the operator, because his eyebrows rose even before he had fully completed his task.
“Something wrong, Cadet?” he asked, as Alex felt for her duffel bag – yep, it was still there – and stepped off the dais.
She looked the man in the eye, giving him a small but genuine smile. “Nothing that a brisk walk about the ship and perhaps a quick fisherman’s shower won’t fix,” she said. “Cadet’s Quarters on Deck 6?”
He nodded, and then pointed over his shoulder at the sliding doors behind his back. “Three decks down. Take a right, walk straight on. Turbolift is at the end of the passage, you can’t miss it. Check your marching orders; they should have a section and hatch number for the quarters you’ve been assigned. Most Cadets here have a roommate, so do remember to ring the chime before busting in. But you might get lucky. We’re not entirely full up on crew, at the moment.”
Alex nodded. “Thanks, Chief. But if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather take the stairs.”
He looked at her strangely, then at the large and obviously overstuffed duffel over her shoulder. It was stained, old – it had belonged to her grandfather when he’d been just a boy – and, she had to admit, slightly anachronistic in the polished stainless-steel-and-glass environment of a recently constructed Starfleet vessel.
“It’s not as heavy as it looks,” she said with a shrug.
The Chief shook his head. “It’s not that. Well, not primarily. I’ve just never met any Officer, on this ship or any other, who’d rather crawl through a Jefferies tube and shimmy down a series of ladders than simply take the turbolift. Regardless of load.”
Alex laughed. “First time for everything, Chief,” she said, and with that, she was out the door.
Ten minutes later, having found her assigned quarters empty,dumped her duffel on the top bunk and taken a quick hydro shower, Alex emerged from the Jefferies tube hatch outside Sickbay. She checked her reflection in the glass panels at the entrance, and concluded that her short black hair was still dripping a bit. She shrugged it off, and walked inside.
“Hello,” she said, to no one in particular. “My name is Alex Winters. I’m a Doctor. I’ve been sent here for an Academy training cruise. Is the CMO available?”
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