S.S. Fawkes - CF-142AC

Good vibrations?

Posted on Friday June 18th, 2021 @ 00:30 hours by Olivia Wright

Mission: Safe Passage
Location: Olivia's quarters, Fawkes.
520 words - 1 OF Standard Post Measure

Olivia sat in her quarters and stared at the wall opposite her bunk. Her head lightly touched the higher bunk, reminding her this had originally been a two person room. She’d been assured she wouldn’t have to share it, unless some weird emergency popped out at them.

Feeling the ever slight vibrations of the ship's engine felt good under her bare feet. She’d removed a small piece of the room's rug, so her soles could touch the metal frame. A weird habit she’d picked up on the Soval; it had driven the ops crew bonkers, until the chief back then had ordered them to just leave it be.

Planets had always felt off to her for this singular reason. You couldn’t feel them vibrate. And while she knew that was a good thing, vibrations on a planet usually meant tectonic activity, it simply didn’t feel right to her. This, this ship, this was the proper place to be. At least, she hoped it was. She knew she could deal with whatever ship was sent her way. Getting to know it would be the most interesting aspect of this job, at least for a bit. She only hoped she could deal well with the people. She hadn’t dealt with civilians on a full time basis… well she couldn’t remember when. Shore leave and the occasional vacation back on board the Marmalade were never long enough for her to really get out of the Starfleet mindset. She wasn’t sure she knew how anymore.

Slowly, almost painfully, the newly appointed Fawkes bosun stood, keeping her feet firmly planted on her rugless spot. She looked around at her small room and wondered, despite her best efforts, what her sister would think of this place. She’d probably love it. She could take anything in stride. She’d probably have the captain eating out her hand and half the crew whistling strange songs she’d already have taught them.

Sadness filled her quicker than she could counter it, and for a moment, she felt the pain, actual physical pain, as her chest compressed and pushed the air out of her lungs. One hand reached for the nearest wall as she stared at the floor, willing her lungs to fill again. They refused to listen. This was not a good time for this. Part of her mind tried to remind her she never thought it was a good time. She ignored it and balled her hand into a fist.


Pain filled her fingers and her mind, overshadowing the nascent panic attack.


Her fist hit the wall once more, her lungs painfully reminded they had a job to do. Leaning her forehead on the wall she’d just assaulted, Olivia took in deep breaths, calming herself and giving her body the oxygen it needed. She just needed to keep herself occupied and all would be good. Ship like this was sure to keep her up until exhaustion every day, if not well… she glanced at the small crate she’d had delivered; there were other ways.