Posted Nov. 22, 2023, 5:08 p.m. by Lieutenant Junior Grade Fraiser Flynn (Security Officer) (Cass Young)
Posted by Lieutenant Rico Vanhall (Tactical Officer/Armory Officer) in Side Sim: Return to the Saracen
Posted by Lieutenant Junior Grade Fraiser Flynn (Security Officer) in Side Sim: Return to the Saracen
Posted by Lieutenant Rico Vanhall (Tactical Officer/Armory Officer) in Side Sim: Return to the Saracen
Posted by… suppressed (3) by the Post Ghost! 👻
Earth Space Dock
“Look after yourself mother,” Fraiser said giving his mother a firm nod. His mother nodded, teary eyed and reached her hand out as if to hug him but flinched and drew back as if not quite sure she should. Fraiser grasped the hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I will be fine, 5 years in Starfleet and I haven’t a scar on me,” He looked up, his eyes meeting his older brother Alex. Quickly Fraiser dropped his mothers hand, where it fell back to her side and clutched her skirt tightly. She still looked as frail as the day he had returned when he had heard first heard she had been injured. However, there was no sense in over coddling the old lady. She had been the wife of a Starfleet officer and now she was the mother of one, and unlike his father Fraiser had no intention of dying on her. If it hadn’t been for the fact that he has suspected she had needed help he would have never come back at all.
Besides she had her youngest, Bryan to look after her, whatever little good that might do since he had let her get injured in the first place, and Alex was only a transporter away from home. But even so, he made a mental note, to set some credits aside for her in since his sojourn back home had, if anything, highlighted how much better off he was doing than his low life brothers. Of her 4 sons, there were only 3 of them there today, the eldest being still stuck in jail, serving the same sentence he had when Fraiser had graduated.
So little had changed since he’d first left through this very same Space Dock all those years ago when he had graduated, the only changes he could see were the Lt. (j.g.) pips on his collar and the fact that now Bryan actually knew how to hit back.
“I wish you were going back to that colony,” His mother whispered.
Fraiser fought back a scoff, the last few years he had spent there on the temporary posting that had been longer than intended had been a fruitless endeavor. He had accepted the position hoping to chase a promotion had been a colossal waste of time. Nothing but guarding a dirty rock, it had contained non of the space-pirate raids and excitement that the job posting had promised. Of course, the old woman would want him there. “You know how I love a challenge, mother, the Saracen has always been a good ship and has treated me well.”
“Fraiser will be fine,” Bryan piped up, wrapping his arm around their mothers shoulders, “I bet when we next see him, he will return with great stories of his valor and bravery.”
“Go,” Alex picked up Fraiser’s one bag, and threw it, hitting Fraiser square in the chest, “Before you make her cry again.”
Well-practiced, Fraiser let his usual charming smile slide over his features though this time he couldn’t hold back the cold expression in his eyes. He let the bag drop to the ground. The familiar rise of angry churning in his gut, but he called upon a breathing technique that Counselor Sinclair had taught him. The words, there is a right way and a wrong way to handle these things, and that was the wrong way floated up in his minds from all those years ago when he had first arrived on the Saracen, and it was only out of respect to the speaker of those words, and of his mother, and perhaps a little to the slight throb he could still feel in his shoulder from their last brotherly squirmish, that Frasier didn’t take a swing back at Alex for his disrespect. “Thank you for my bag,”
With that he turned around and walked onto the waiting shuttle, where the pilot, an aging old grandma was waiting. Flashing her another of his smiles, and watching it have the desired effect, as he received a gentle one in return. “Family goodbyes are always the hardest, they never want you to go,”
“Ach aye,” the old lady responded in a thick Scottish accent, “My husband used to have to pry my wains hands off my arms, he’d dig his wee fingers in so deep I’d show up to my check in with little crescent moons on me still.”
“You must have been a fantastic mother for him to cling to you so desperately,” Friaser complimented, watching the older woman preen at the praise as he’d hoped. A part of him wondered, what, made he stay as long in the Federation as she appeared to be, most officers that had families, especially children, and presumably in her case, grandchildren, preferred to retire as soon as the thrill for the stars, and thirst for adventure left them.
“Ach, I can see why your family would want to keep a nice boy such as yourself around, you must make your parents very proud,” She replied, “Reminds me of me own brother at such a tender age.”
“Thank you ma’am,” Fraiser smiled, layering on the charm now that he knew he had her. The old bag was just too easy. “But I just do what I can to make the universe a better place,”
As she cooed about how modest and how kind he was, Fraiser tuned her out and settled into his seat and pulled out his PADD smirking to himself. It had been a few years and he had some catching up to do.
One long journey later…
On a different shuttle craft now, with a different pilot, Lieutenant (j.g.) Flynn stood by the view screen and sighed as the Saracen came into view. He was amazed at the sense of relief that washed over him as the ship came larger and larger into picture.
Having updated himself on what he could of the ships personal, he was both surprised and not surprised at the number had changed and who had left and who had remained. Some like missus moving on board was hardly a surprise, others like the loss of the old Chief had come as more hard hitting, especially knowing that there was some green thumb in her place, a role he could have easily had been put forward for if he hadn’t accepted that farce of a posting in an attempt at another quick, easy promotion and also an attempt to get away from the mandatory counselling sessions he had had to attend.
Counselor Sinclair had moved on, leaving mixed feelings which surprised Flynn. He had hated that he had to attend those therapy sessions with a therapist that could see past the practiced smile, easy charm and good looks. For him to expose the darker side of himself, the black soul, his ex, Elaine had once described it. Yet there was a tiny part of himself that had felt a certain exhilaration to those sessions, to explore feelings he like to shove away, and to learn how to control them and let them go so they couldn’t control him. Flynn couldn’t deny there was a part of himself that held feelings of respect for the Counselor - now Executive Officer Sinclair.
=^= Ensign Pok of Shuttlecraft Diego 87911 to U.S.S Saracen, requesting permission to dock =^=
The Vulcan Ensign’s calm voice startled Flynn from his thoughts, quietly excusing himself to the back of the Shuttlecraft he quickly straightened his uniform and made sure his bag was zipped, everything is strict, nearly OCD like order. First impressions were everything, but second first impressions, even more so. It was his second chance aboard the Saracen and he intended to once again show himself to be an upstanding member of Starfleet.
Lt. (j.g.) Flynn.
The shuttle slid into the Saracen’s docking bay easily and expertly, and landed with a soft thud that echoed throughout the walls of the small craft. It took a moment before the door opened as the Operations crew outside took a moment to scan and secure the area around the shuttle, but eventually the door slid open with a hiss and the light from the brightly lit interior of the Saracen flooded in. Around Flynn, the few passengers that were arriving with him stood and took hold of their carry-on in preparation to leave.
As the other passengers had disembarked, Flynn had opened his bag where he’d packed his assignment orders on top so that they were ready and waiting for him to grab as he did now and slung the bag back over his shoulder out of the way. With a thankful nod to the pilot, he disembarked with the others, surprised to find the touch of excitement he felt to be returning to the Saracen adding a little more bounce to his step than his usual confident gait. As he moved he thought back to the first time he had arrived, how he’d been caught flirting by the XO at the time who had arrived at the same time he had and he smiled. He had been careful this time to be friendly, even jovial with the other passengers but no more than that. There would be time for that fun later and for now first impressions, even a second time around, were still everything.
“Welcome to the Saracen, you lot.” A voice from a man outside called out as one by one the people began to disembark. “Present your assignment orders please, lets do this quick and painlessly.”
Disturbed from his musings by the man, Flynn blinked and focused on the here and now, his eyes swiveling around to find the owner of the voice.
The man was of solid build and the same height as Flynn, but easily had an extra 25kg on the returning Security Officer. Square jawed with a short crew cut and shoulders that could put a Klingon to shame, the man was an old time poster-boy image of a soldier, and could have doubled as a ‘We Want You’ advertisement. He had also been on the ship the last time Fraiser was on it, this was a Lieutenant by the name of Vanhall. Part of the ships Security division, he mainly served as the Saracen’s Armory Officer and Tactical Officer. As he was checking assignment orders for the crew coming off the shuttle, he wasn’t watching the shuttle doorway.
Lt Vanhall, Armory/Tactical
Flynn grinned, a true grin, more real than his trademark one that had girls going doe eyed and the men naturally relaxing around him. It had been a few years now, but he remembered the Lieutenant fondly. The old flair of jealousy was still there when even a few years had still not managed to make the other male any less attractive than when Flynn had left. Flynn still looked like a child, a mere pretty boy standing next to Vanhall, where Vanhall had the solider body, Flynn’s was more deceptive and despite his efforts to bulk up, his muscles didn’t look quite as impressive when he stood next to someone like Vanhall.
Despite Flynn’s jealousy over Vanhall’s physique, he had quickly grown to like the older male. Vanhall had been more tolerable than some of the other officers that Flynn had worked with, for one he had a good sense of humour, not like a lot of the Security sticks in the mud and for another, he was a damn fine officer. Vanhall was experienced and over time Flynn had grown to deeply respect the man. He had enjoyed the opportunities he had had to work with Vanhall and out of the officers that remained from before Flynn had left, Vanhall had been the one he had most looked forward to seeing again. Not that he’d ever tell the older officer that.
“Good to see you’re still standing old man,” Flynn smirked as he held his assignment orders for inspection. “I thought that Lieutenant Triton would have chased you off first with that Klingon side of hers, than the other way around.” He knew full well that the old Security Chief was a good friend of Vanhall and they had often traded banter back and forth when working together.
Lt. (j.g.) Flynn
“Who you callin’ old, kid!” Vanhall looked up with narrowed eyes, directly at Flynn but any hint of recognition was carefully concealed. Vanhall was only a handful of years older than Flynn indeed but, to Rico it felt like a lifetime of experience. The stare he gave Fraiser was the practiced training field or late-for-duty look that Rico had cultivated as CoS of the Ogawa, and from a stint as a tutor at the Academy before posting to the Saracen to what some would consider a lower position. Not to Rico though, the Saracen was a battlecruiser on the front lines of the Federation and as the ships Tactical Officer, he got to do pew pew with the big guns.
“Don’t you recognise an old pal,” Flynn flashed one of his classic charming smiles, though this one held a touch of devious in it, “They tell me memory loss is one of the first signs of ageing,”
“Oh, it’s you,” Rico managed to sound bored but the smile at the edges of his mouth betrayed him. He was happy to see this Officer back on the ship, he was good value and easy to talk to, as well as being darn good at his job and an all round good guy. “Hey!” The bored look on his face disappeared and the powerfully built Vanhall stepped forward, casually brushing an NE out of the way. “You bulked up!” Instead of offering a handshake in greeting, Vanhall reached out and a large mitt gripped Flynns bicep. “Not bad! What are you lifting now? You went up a few plates didn’t you? Are you getting enough protein? We can get a special chit from Natasha in medical for you so the replicator gives you some extra juice in your meals.”
Flynn hadn’t realised how much he’d missed the jovial good humour that he had, had with the other officers on the Saracen. Many a night shift had passed faster when Flynn and Rico had traded banter, training tips and the gems of advice Rico had passed to the younger officer from time to time. The smile that had broken on his face was more genuine than his usual trademark and as Rico squeezed his bicep, he flexed his arms showing off all the hard work he’d been putting into his training. It was nice that his efforts hadn’t been as subtle as he had thought.
“Just another couple, I’m lifting between 80-90kg now, still miles behind you,” Flynn eyed Rico’s own biceps enviously. Was it just the fact he had been away so long that made them look bigger now than he remembered? He clapped Rico on the back, “But not for long, eh, I’ll get that special chit from Natasha and once I get going, I’ll be able to flex like you in no time.”
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