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Side Sim - Tom Little reporting to DH

Posted Dec. 11, 2021, 9:23 p.m. by Ensign Tom Little (Science Officer) (Tom L)

Posted by Lieutenant Markus Woods (Chief Science Officer) in Side Sim - Tom Little reporting to DH

Posted by Ensign Tom Little (Science Officer) in Side Sim - Tom Little reporting to DH

Posted by Captain Rende Asam (Captain) in Side Sim - Tom Little reporting to DH
Posted by… suppressed (1) by the Post Ghost! 👻
(OOC: Greetings! As permitted, this thread will be three check-ins in one. He will report to each place by the order from the title. Looking forward to RP with you all. )

Hmm, that wasn’t bad.

“Welcome aboard, Ensign. Now step aside from the transporter. Reconfiguration…particles…voila.” Soon, a wooden box appeared to the right side of the transporter, as if it was a magical show, first a humanoid and then an object. The missing parts were probably cheers and music.

“Now help me move this box…Here is fine.”

“Whew, what’s in there, Sir?” Tom looked at the label. To Lt. Cmdr K…With a fragile tag?

“Oh, Ensign. Don’t ask, don’t tell.” The chief smiled. “If you want to finish this career without a record. That’s how I survived for a decade. Now you may disappear.”

He was carrying a seabag packed with documents and necessary items. The Academy did tell him a lot about the space. Unlike most people, he wasn’t excited about outer space exploration. May be still not. But he had a rough plan to get experience and write a journal after retirement. But first, I got to finish the obligational service.

If there was anything that surprised him so far, was the amount Cadets who didn’t make it. He has seen many talented and skillful people in the past four years. But many have ‘gone’ without ever seen again. Persistence was probably the most required trait and even in space. The processing started from a recommendation, a waiting period of 90 days, and 1460 days of training. Hew man, I was lucky to be still standing.

=C= Deck 5. =C= As guided by the ship’s computer, LCARS led him to the CSO’s office. As usual, he tucked his uniform and pushed the chime. “Good morning, Ensign Little reporting.”

Ens Little, Scientist

OOC: I love the detail here, a wonderful first post. Just a quick note that I did a little edit to the thread title. I think it’s great for you to do one check in at a time. It keeps the time line flowing, but to prevent confusing on where are you are at the moment I removed the CMO and CNS tags. After you finish your check in with your DH just remove “DH” from the title and replace with where you are going next.
-Jenn

(OOC: Thought the same and you were faster. :)

? After a few moments later, Tom repeated, “Good morning, Ensign Little reporting.” Maybe no one is inside. In that case, I’ll check with others first.

Ens Little, Scientist

As he turned to go a figure stood a couple meters behind and to the right with a mug of something dark in one hand. Standing a solid 178 centimeters (5’ 10”) was a Lieutenant dressed in science blues with dark chocolate hair slicked back with steely gray eyes and looked to be about five years Tom’s senior in age. His posture was relaxed and casual, though those same eyes swept the lab, bouncing over the eqiupment, piece to piece, as though he expected some or all of it to be missing. Though there was no accusation in his gaze toward Tom. There was a slightly haunted note in his expression, similar to others he might have already seen. Long-timers on the ship. Despite the Viking-A having been out of the docks for a little while, the rumors of the original Viking having been a cursed ship were still circulating. Perhaps there was some merit to those rumors.

The specter of the past faded as the Lieutenant’s hawk-like gaze locked on Ensign Little. “Welcome to the Viking, Ensign,” he gestured for Tom to follow him into the office. “Cop a squat. Sorry if i startled you. I was over in the high energy physics lab. Can I get you something.” As he offered, he jerked his thumb toward the small office replicator. The labs had their own, but it wasn’t geared for making things for people to enjoy, though … he could make a mean pot of coffee with it. Or enough alcohol to put Jack Daniels out of business. Not that he used it for those purposes. Even regular replicators could do those things though.

Making his way over to the desk, he swiped one hand across the inset display, which showed Ensign Little’s profile. “So computer sciences. Good. We have a number o’ linguists, botanists, exobiologists, astrophysicists and stellar cartographers. Not as many computer science majors,” Markus said. The more he talked, the easier it was to pick up hints of a Texas drawl, though Markus hadn’t set foot on Earth until he’d landed at San Francisco, at the academy campus. “So why computers,” he asked. It was less of a challenge, and more wanting to know more about the man across from him. Everybody had their own pursuits. The why was as important as the what.

Lt Woods, CSO

“Sir,” Tom chuckled, “the people you’ve just mentioned can’t fully function without machines, for a day.” He continued. “Basically, things can do the computation, data storage, input-output is related to computer. Language experts will need to use UT* for someday. Botanists and biologists will need to maintain good conditions of the room for plants or compounds…oh, and of course, the Astro people can sleep better with machine-controlled telescopes or probes to track stars and planets during the off-time…”

“In fact, you can’t make a drink without the replicator recognizing your voice and menu data. Unless making it from scratch.”

“I’m just filling in the blanks. It’s good for us to be cared by machines, but someone has to take care of them too. Sir.” The last time he cooked something from scratch was probably the survival class in Australia. As the locals often referred to it as ‘a little camping’.

The clichés above were one of the talks he used when that kind of question was asked. The truth was, computer science was the least competitive subject in his time, so the entry score was lower than others.

“Coffee is fine. Thank you, Sir.” He hopped in a seat while putting down the bag.

(*UT: Universal Translator )

Ens Little, Scientist


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