Entering The Memorial (Pre-Sim, Open)

Posted Dec. 5, 2018, 7:28 p.m. by Lieutenant Junior Grade Farren "Gypsy" Adama (Helm Officer/Shuttle Pilot) (Sam Haynes)

The Sunlight-class ship had dropped out of warp just a little ways before the outer marker at Starbase 243. The nimble little ship made a quick approach as it docked with the station. Shortly after Adama had been able to disembark. The fast little ship was barely big enough to be considered a capital ship. It had speed, but not much else. It had been stripped of almost all the ‘fat’ and was a sleek speed machine. It was meant to get around. But it didn’t leave much in creature comforts. The Bajoran woman hadn’t thought she minded much, at least until she was once more able to stretch her arms over her head fully, and all around, now in the corridors of the starbase. The station was positively spacious by comparison. And the air itself was much fresher. As she walked, she spotted real, actual plants growing here and there, helping with the atmospheric upkeep besides the filters and scrubbers.

Eventually she stepped into a turbolift and whizzed across the station. The turbolift access had been tied into the Memorials through their docking attachments. And she found herself deposited just off the gangway. There she spotted a blonde girl, no woman in Starfleet operations colors. She had a single pip on the collar, making her an Ensign. Said ensign was focused on the task of seeing to the disposition of supplies being brought aboard and looking over a few sets of PADDs for those boarding the vessel. Farren stepped into the queue, and shouldered her bag. It had a few keepsakes and mementos she didn’t want put in a replicator buffer. Hanging through the strap was her aviator style flight jacket marked with unit and squadron patches. She’d earned it as a cadet, and had been with her ever since, and with each transfer it had become something of an unofficial representation of her record.

As she stepped up to the Quartermaster she gave the Ensign a nod. Without a word she presented her PADD with the transfer orders set down from Starfleet. The blonde raised an eyebrow at Farren, then accepted the device with a quick “Thank you, sir.” Acknowledging rank, not gender. Farren smiled a little as the younger officer scanned the papers. “Lieutenant junior grade Farren, Adama. Callsign, Gypsy.” She sampled the words as she spoke then looked up to the Bajoran. “I have you logged as boarding and reporting in for the first time as of oh-seven-hundred. I will flag this for the Captain and ex-oh.” With that she glanced over to another crewman in Operations yellow. This one was a male human with a hard set to his jaw, and had the rough look of a security or tactical specialist. “Crewman Taylor will escort you to the Captain’s chambers,” she said. The escort was ostensibly so Adama wouldn’t get lost, but also would keep a potential security risk from wandering off. Until she was officially a crew member she was a guest, a visitor. All visitors had to have an escort. She was used to it, especially on more militant Starfleet vessels.

“Excellent,” Lieutenant Farren replied, then turned her attention to the security officer, rolling her hand in a lets go manner. Reaching up she tapped her combadge =^=Computer, location and whereabouts of Captain Zoarhi.=*= They were on the move and heading for the internal turbolifts, thoughs he knew she would probably need to walk the decks to get a feel for them. She’d quickly learned to navigate the decks of a ship by brace and beam as a cadet, which gave her some idea the layout anyway. Most Starfleet ships were built the same way, but each class was a little different. And the Memorial-class she’d never visited until now. As they moved in tandem they slipped into one of the turbolifts, and paused a moment to give the computer a chance to catch up.

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