07-27-2010, 10:50 AM
STARBASE THRINACIA
John Morgan's Temporary Quarters.
*The time is 0600 hours* The computer announced.
John Morgan jolted upright on his bed in reaction to the alarm he has set. Blinking for a few seconds, John slowly gained the realisation that he was conscious, he shook his head in response.
John turned round to get out of bed and requested something of the computer,
âComputer, upcoming events pleaseâ.
âYou have, four unchanged events, one reminder and five cancelled events.â The computer listed.
âHmm, why so many cancelled events?â John pondered aloud to him self as he rose from the side of his bed.
âUnknownâ The computer responded. John stepped to the mirror standing in the room and thought for a second.
âWhat is this reminder?â John inquired to the computer, thinking it may shed some light on the situation.
âType message, subject Ceremony and Debrief reminder.â, replied the computer promptly.
âO yes, of course, Steve has got a nice party to kick-start this whole thing doesn't he.â John said in realisation. John looked down at him self in the mirror, âAlso means dress uniform, looking at my self I doubt it still fits, being behind a desk months on endâ, John jested followed by a small chuckle.
âComputer cancel any thing from when this reminded event startsâ John requested of the computer.
âThree events cancelledâ the computer replied.
âThree? Dam, I need to remember what am doing with my time. Am sure who ever they where with, they would of cancelled anyway. Computer, anything within the next few hours?â John requested.
âNegativeâ The computer responded.
John picked up his dress Uniform to see if it still fits. After a few tugs it finally got it to fit his frame.
âHmm, perhaps I should cut down on the snacks.â John joked as he adjusted his top. âI better get it pressed I supposeâ He commented to him self.
Such formalities seem to be of no ones preference, but they seem to organise and attend them anyway. John pondered why they just don't get straight into the partying, and don't bother with the formal meal. They know they want to.
After making a meal of taking his dress uniform off, he proceeded to pick up his duty uniform.
Still thinking why do such a thing, his thoughts wandered off to thinking in that these formal meals are the reason Admirals never leave their desk job. All these meals are weighing them down. John would rather be in an engineering section of a starship instead of pushing pencils. But it seems the universe in it's wicked way would have it otherwise.
Finishing putting his uniform on, he checked the computer for the time and exited his quarters. From there he tallied forth towards the promenade, where he would get him self a darling cup of coffee to fully awaken the pencil pusher within. To produce a man that could wade his way though mountains paper work, before this party that was soon to commence.
Entering the promenade, he turned left and headed for the café that was before him. Trundling towards the café, the aroma of fresh coffee permeated the air, like a sweet nectar. This however being the nectar of work.
Sweeping though the entrance, John halted abruptly, scanning the room for an unoccupied chair. The café was of the a similar style to the station, nothing new, the standard décor is something Starfleet rarely has bothered to liven up. The café however was busy, as it is usually in the mornings.With many working men and women of Starfleet obtaining the nectar to quick boot their morning shifts. It surely that Starfleet runs on the stuff.
Finally locating a seat, John approached it in a swift fashion, and awaited for service. For it was not long before a waitress approached him.
âWhat be your order sir? The waitress inquired.
âMy poison will be Coffee, black if you please. Also would you accompany it by two pieces of toast, buttered. That will be all,Thank you.â John requested.
âWill not be longâ, The waitress responded before turning and departing from the table John sat at.
The waitress of course was not incorrect, she returned with his order, âYour order sirâ The Waitress announced to John.
âThanksâ, John said as she turned for the next table.
Taking a bite of the toast he just received, he thought that he should of brought the PADD that he purposely left beside his bed last night to work on. Never mind.
John Morgan's Temporary Quarters.
*The time is 0600 hours* The computer announced.
John Morgan jolted upright on his bed in reaction to the alarm he has set. Blinking for a few seconds, John slowly gained the realisation that he was conscious, he shook his head in response.
John turned round to get out of bed and requested something of the computer,
âComputer, upcoming events pleaseâ.
âYou have, four unchanged events, one reminder and five cancelled events.â The computer listed.
âHmm, why so many cancelled events?â John pondered aloud to him self as he rose from the side of his bed.
âUnknownâ The computer responded. John stepped to the mirror standing in the room and thought for a second.
âWhat is this reminder?â John inquired to the computer, thinking it may shed some light on the situation.
âType message, subject Ceremony and Debrief reminder.â, replied the computer promptly.
âO yes, of course, Steve has got a nice party to kick-start this whole thing doesn't he.â John said in realisation. John looked down at him self in the mirror, âAlso means dress uniform, looking at my self I doubt it still fits, being behind a desk months on endâ, John jested followed by a small chuckle.
âComputer cancel any thing from when this reminded event startsâ John requested of the computer.
âThree events cancelledâ the computer replied.
âThree? Dam, I need to remember what am doing with my time. Am sure who ever they where with, they would of cancelled anyway. Computer, anything within the next few hours?â John requested.
âNegativeâ The computer responded.
John picked up his dress Uniform to see if it still fits. After a few tugs it finally got it to fit his frame.
âHmm, perhaps I should cut down on the snacks.â John joked as he adjusted his top. âI better get it pressed I supposeâ He commented to him self.
Such formalities seem to be of no ones preference, but they seem to organise and attend them anyway. John pondered why they just don't get straight into the partying, and don't bother with the formal meal. They know they want to.
After making a meal of taking his dress uniform off, he proceeded to pick up his duty uniform.
Still thinking why do such a thing, his thoughts wandered off to thinking in that these formal meals are the reason Admirals never leave their desk job. All these meals are weighing them down. John would rather be in an engineering section of a starship instead of pushing pencils. But it seems the universe in it's wicked way would have it otherwise.
Finishing putting his uniform on, he checked the computer for the time and exited his quarters. From there he tallied forth towards the promenade, where he would get him self a darling cup of coffee to fully awaken the pencil pusher within. To produce a man that could wade his way though mountains paper work, before this party that was soon to commence.
Entering the promenade, he turned left and headed for the café that was before him. Trundling towards the café, the aroma of fresh coffee permeated the air, like a sweet nectar. This however being the nectar of work.
Sweeping though the entrance, John halted abruptly, scanning the room for an unoccupied chair. The café was of the a similar style to the station, nothing new, the standard décor is something Starfleet rarely has bothered to liven up. The café however was busy, as it is usually in the mornings.With many working men and women of Starfleet obtaining the nectar to quick boot their morning shifts. It surely that Starfleet runs on the stuff.
Finally locating a seat, John approached it in a swift fashion, and awaited for service. For it was not long before a waitress approached him.
âWhat be your order sir? The waitress inquired.
âMy poison will be Coffee, black if you please. Also would you accompany it by two pieces of toast, buttered. That will be all,Thank you.â John requested.
âWill not be longâ, The waitress responded before turning and departing from the table John sat at.
The waitress of course was not incorrect, she returned with his order, âYour order sirâ The Waitress announced to John.
âThanksâ, John said as she turned for the next table.
Taking a bite of the toast he just received, he thought that he should of brought the PADD that he purposely left beside his bed last night to work on. Never mind.
Admiral John 'Spiced' Morgan
Joint Fleet Commanding Officer, Starfleet Strategic Response Fleet
Commanding USS Elimination
Joint Fleet Commanding Officer, Starfleet Strategic Response Fleet
Commanding USS Elimination
Quote:[02/27/11 13:25:51 ] Nick : just noticed another issue, now the posts aren't showing in teh Starfleet HQ thread. the post is there when you open teh thread, but the only post that shows is my instructor thread
[02/27/11 13:26:13 ] Nick : I love creating work for the admin....(H)
[02/27/11 13:26:34 ] Paul : I love ignoring issues as an admin