S.S. Fawkes - CF-142AC
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Desperate for Change

Posted on Sunday November 25th, 2018 @ 18:24 hours by Mayterial Droz & Canaan Serene

Mission: Smugglers Need Not Apply
Location: Residence Hall, Jean-Luc Picard Preparatory School - Paris France.
Timeline: 0937, MD06


Canaan paced, having done so for the better part of the morning. He'd found it difficult to remain still for long periods of time, apprehension inducing a jittery excitement; a relatively patient person under normal circumstances, these were anything but. There were only a few days remaining in the spring semester with finals having gone well enough, but the dreaded advancement ceremonies loomed. They were only dreaded because Canaan still wasn't sure of his plans. The difficult conversations were had; his parents were understandably concerned and his academic adviser frustrated at her mentees' spontaneity. Canaan could empathize with their reservations, he was straying from a carefully laid path to follow one pitted with unknowns. Friends and family couldn't understand, some refused to; but he was desperate for a break.

The musical playlist playing in the background softened as the voice of the computer filled the meager confines of the room, "Incoming communique; would you care to accept?"

"Yes!" In his haste to move toward the study console, Canaan's sock-covered toes snarled in a length of trouser leg, causing him to stumble. Seemingly unperturbed, Canaan caught himself on the back of the desk chair and untwisted the fabric from around his ankle, discarding the garment on the unmade bed.

"Acknowledged. Standby."

Canaan slid into the chair, his left leg bouncing anxiously as the 'Awaiting Connection' icon completed its buffering.

The screen switched from the stand by message to a grainy image of the Andorian he had known and kept in touch with from a long time ago. Oshy'romia, simply Oshy to her friends, pushed a strand of hair behind her antenna and gave a toothy grin. There was some obvious light lag on the channel. It was clear this communication hadn't gotten the top priority on the channel. "Hey Canaan, you dawg!" She gave a wink and leaned forward, "How is the view from your ivory tower?"

Canaan grinned, "Had I longer hair, I'd lower it down so you could rescue me from this place." His fingers tapped lightly at the biometric interface, adjusting a few of the settings to the communications channel. "It's been a while, where have you been?" The question may have been direct, yet was filled with a curiousness that betrayed no ill-will. Where Oshy was concerned, extended absences were to be expected, the woman's profession nearly guaranteed it. His Andorian friend was good about writing though, and even those had been few and far between over the last several weeks.

"Work's been crazy since Hobus." Oshy shook her head a bit and looked away from the screen for a moment. "Dad's been trying to ride the wave." She had referred to the sudden influx of supply runs to the affected parts of the beta quadrant. "We're at the edge of Federation space." She leaned forward, as if trying to really listen to the sound coming from his end, "Are you still listening to that crap, I told you about the new album of Frozen Tundra, didn't I?"

"Hey!" Canaan whined, "Don't be hating on Marcus Belefonte, his rhymes may be urbane... but if you actually took a moment to listen, you'd find them rather poignant." Reaching down, he retrieved a data slate. Activating the screen, Canaan scrolled through the contents of the music library before tapping on a specific album graphic. Enlarging it, he held the slate up so that the display faced towards Oshy. "Of course you did." He confirmed, "It's pretty decent, albeit elementary." It was their mutual love of music that had solidified their longstanding friendship. The pair had been to so many concerts, Canaan had long since lost count. "'Blow Me Away' was probably the most well-written, although I really like 'Let Me Hate You'... get's my blood pumping on a run."

"Of course." Oshy rolled her eyes and laughed a bit, the poor connection breaking it up and making it seem more manic than it actually was. "I've looked at that thing you asked me. I'll send over the list of names but with your experience you'll probably be stuck on a low tier deck hand job." She scrolled through the list on her PADD, "unless..."

It was Canaan's turn to learn forward, only his gesture was as manic as it appeared, "Listen, I don't care, I've just gotta get out of here." He sputtered in a coherent declaration of honesty. Then he paused, "Wait... unless what?" He asked, having nearly missed Oshy's last word.

"Well, you could probably land a more comfortable job if you are willing to travel to Starbase 72 and sign up for a ship there." Oshy thought it would be best not to mention the ship in question just yet. Her father and the Captain had crossed paths and they were on good footing. Not friends by any stretch but on friendly terms.

Travel wasn't a problem, not in the slightest; it was the fundamental reason for his desire to leave. He needed to get out into space sooner rather than later, he wanted to explore. One of his friends here at the prep-academy had declared they thought he was running away from something, but that wasn't true. He had a close relationship with his parents and family, there was no bad blood between them. His academics were excellent and had assured rapid admission to the academy. Starfleet was his future, but he wasn't quite ready to make that commitment, not yet at least. He knew, with inherent certainty, that once he started down that path, there would be no looking back... not for many years to come. That's why he needed to leave, if only for a little while, to experience life in a different way than what he'd known all these years.

"I'm okay with travel. Travel is good. I need travel." Canaan drummed his fingers against the only organized surface within the room. "What do you mean by 'comfortable' though? I thought freighters only took on greenhorns as deck hands."

"Not all opportunities are created equal." Oshy wasn't sure what to tell her friend about the Fawkes, "Send a message to the Fawkes, address it to Mayerial Droz. With your background, she might want to bump you to the bridge. I can ask my dad to shoot her a message if you want." She then shrugged, "Unless you want to make it on your own merits, of course. Then you can scrub some deck plates."

Canaan shrugged, "I'm not afraid of hard work." In truth, the kid didn't know what he would be signing on for as a deck hand, but the stories Oshy had shared were enough to paint a pretty picture of life on board a freighter. "The Fawkes you said?" He made a notation of the ship's name on the data slate. "No no, don't have your dad reach out... I appreciate the referral, but I think this is something I'll need to do in person. I don't want them thinking I can't do it on my own, ya' know?" His voice had grown quiet as he stared at the name of the ship. "This is it, isn't it?" He asked Oshy, wanting her to confirm this was the change he was so desperately yearning for.

"Well, it's something, that's for sure." Oshy had known Canaan for a long time and she knew that he would be a good hand to have on a freighter. She knew why he wanted to do it alone, but never really understood that desire in people. If you knew someone that could help you get a leg up on someone else, why not take that opportunity? Perhaps there was something her dad could do discreetly. "Well, let me know! Who knows, we might run into each other in a local watering hole." She winked.

"Maybe!" He said with a grin that stretched from ear to ear, "Thank you Oshy, I owe you big time. I'll let you know how everything goes with, um... " he tried to recall the captain's name, "Captain Mystical."


Canaan Serene


Oshy'romia Zh'eshryhlik
Frontier Freighter Kid
As written by Mystical Droz

"Life is either a daring adventure or nothing."


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