Full of themselves
The Junk Heap
Location: Captain Myer's ready room
Clarissa had managed to do, in her eyes, a 70% decent job, fixing her appearance, prior to reporting in to the Captain. She even did her hair up in a bun, strictly to attempt to offer some semblance of professionalism she very expressly did not feel, but was 9,005% sure that, given her recent record, reporting with anything less than professionalism was likely to result in her sitting in front of a J.A.G. hearing again, and she had had one too many of those for her life, already.
She took a deep breath, and popped a breath mint in her mouth, to cover up her morning breath, before pressing the Captain's door chime, hoping that the Captain was in a half decent mood.
"Yeah, come in!" Calvin yelled.
When the doors opened, she found him ducked behind his desk, waving what appeared to be a floor panel, "I can't freaking run this ship like this, Chief. Seriously. It's right where my chair is supposed to be, and it's all warped out of shape," He grumbled to a man on the viewscreen next to him.
"Sorry, Cap, we're not do to provide any more requisitions to the Century at this time," The man replied.
"I need one damn floor panel," Calvin replied, flatly. "One, Chief. One."
"I get that, Cap, but I got none for ya, sorry," And the channel cleared.
Calvin blinked, and suddenly looked over at Clarissa, "Did he just hang up on me? Is that what just happened?"
Clarissa shifted, uncomfortably, while attempting to maintain her professionalism. "It would appear so. Yes. Technically, I think that's probably against regulations. We could probably replicate it, and get one of our engineers to fix it, though." Clarissa took a deep breath. Oh, joy. She thought to herself. This will be so much fun. I bet my quarters are just an empty room with no furniture or appliances installed. She added, with a sarcastic inner monologue.
Calvin seemed to get lost in through for a minute, "Didn't think you had to deal with this crap when you were a CO..." He mused the cleared his throat and stood up, "Sorry. Sorry, Hi, Captain Myers, and you are?" He asked, walking around the desk and offering her a hand to shake.
"Lieutenant Com-" Clarissa stopped herself. She winced. Whelp. There went that attempt at professionalism. She cleared her throat. "Lieutenant Clarissa Williams, reporting for duty, sir." She added, in a somewhat deflated tone.
"Yeah," Cal said, sighing, "No, it's all good, Lieutenant. I'm sure you'll get that third pip back soon," He said, smiling and trying to muster that 'Commanding Officer Voice' that always seemed to reassure everyone. "Welcome to the Century," He said, trying to sound proud of the oddly discolored and war torn ship they were on. Not to mention that odd, mechanical smell that he just couldn't shake no matter what part of the ship he was in.
"Thank you." Clarissa said, taking a deep breath. "I think. She seems a bit..." Clarissa trailed off, as she attempted to find a method of saying old, and broken, without saying it. "...worn in." She finished, before realizing that this was not a good method of saying those things. "Still. I'm certain we shall make do." She added, without saying that it wasn't like they had another choice.
"It's not like we've got much other choice," Cal replied with a dry chuckle, as if reading her mind. "Sorry... you're uhm... Sec/Tac, right? I went through the files, but I've been putting out fires since I got here. Wasn't quite ready to start meeting the crew, but that's not your fault," He said, with a gracious smile and a chuckle.
"That's entirely alright, Captain." Clarissa replied. "Yes. That is correct." She added, before wondering whether or not the Captain meant literal fires. "Did you... require any help?" She added, in what she hoped was a sincere sounding offer. It wasn't.
"No no," Cal said, waving off the offer, "Thanks though. I think I've got everything handled... except this bit," He said, looking down at the floor where the chair would normally sit. "How about you? Need anything from me?" He asked, giving her a smile.
About 3 fingers worth of scotch. Clarissa thought at herself, but shook her head. "No, no. I don't really think I have anything worth bothering you about. Thank you, though."
"Alright, cool," Cal said, suddenly unsure of himself. "I uh... well, if that's it, I'll uhm... you can go and get settled in. And uh... report for duty when you're ready," He offered.
"That's actually what I'm here to do." Clarissa said, confused. "Are you sure you're alright, sir?" She added, with significantly more sincerity in her voice."
Calvin sighed and stared off for a moment as if carefully weighing his words, before looking back over at his new Sec/Tac Officer, "Yeah... I... This isn't how I saw my first command going, you know?" He said with a dry laugh and hollow grin. "Trying to wrap my head around it is all."
"Was about to ask you the same question though," He added, turning to lean on his desk and regard her carefully, "You look like you might be carrying the weight of a couple worlds on your shoulders," He said, wishing he could remember which file was hers specifically.
"Just ghosts." Clarissa replied, shaking her head. "We all do. I had my life planned out. My career. I was going to be a Captain, you know? Now..." She gestured around her, looking at the disarray of the ship. "Well. My assignment was very evidently inspired by the general distaste I am held in."
Calvin laughed, and nodded, "I know the feeling... we'll make it work, huh? Show those bastards up top what we got. That's my plan, anyway," He explained with a grin.
"It's not like I exactly have a choice." Clarissa replied. "This is a nicer assignment than the penal colony I was told to expect."
Calvin laughed, not quite mirthfully, "Yeah, well, let's not make any assumptions, huh?" He said, giving her a lop sided grin. "Get to work, if you're ready then. I'm gonna see if I can bang this stupid deck plate back into shape," He said, sighing heavily. "Missed 'shipboard architectural redesign' on the COs job description," He said with a sardonic chuckle.
"I'm an emotional bag of point, click, and shoot, myself, Captain. I understand your frustrations." Clarissa replied, not quite able to find enough humor in the situation to force a laugh. "Good luck?" She asked, in an almost sincere tone.
"You too, Lieutenant. If you need anything, let me know, okay?" He offered, giving her a casual.
"I can't think of anything appropriate to ask for." Clarissa shrugged. "I have a therapy appointment to attend, however." She added, with a wince. "Which I very expressly cannot miss."
Calvin chuckled a bit, "I've got a bottle of Romulan Ale that an old friend gave me in my quarters. You ever need a good, really alcoholic drink, you let me know, okay?" He offered with a grin.
"I honestly wish that drinking counted towards my therapy. I'd be done by now." Clarissa retorted. "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you, Captain."
"Dismissed, Lieutenant. And good luck," He said, giving her a wave before going back to studying the warped deck plating.
Clarissa nodded, and left in relative silence, not particularly caring about the quality of firat impression she left behind.
Captain Calvin Myers
Lieutenant Clarissa Williams
Chief Security & Tactical Officer.