06-10-2010, 12:54 AM
Starbase Thrinicia
Promenade
0725 Hours
Ethan strolled along the promenade at a much slower pace than he usually walked, his hands clasped behind his back. The din of the people working, shopping, and conversing hadnât entered his mind, which was somewhere rather distant from the here and now of this place. He even seemed completely oblivious to the flashing lights that marked the doorways to the various shops along the corridor. Deep in thought was nothing compared to where Ethan was in his state of mind right now.
Just a few months ago, he was a lieutenant commander, at the helm of a ship. It was a good ship, the Braveheart. He thought many of the crew had shown a collaborative brave heart. They had started out a bit callous, but that seemed to change as the mission wore on. Once they became comfortable with each other, at least in Ethanâs mind, they came together and worked like a crew should, with and for each other.
Raising his hand to his collar, his fingers clasped the third pip on his collar. Now, though he couldnât see it, he knew the black filled pip was now solid gold. He had been promoted to full Commander at the end of the mission by his Captain, Don McGriff, though he hadnât really any idea why. Heâd done his job no differently than he ever did. He wasnât sure he deserved the promotion, though he wasnât going to fight it either.
When Ethanâs mind came back to the forefront, he realized he had almost completely walked a circuit of the promenade. Scratching his head, wondering how he had started out farther down, and ended up prior to the point where he started, he simply let out a brief chuckle for getting so caught up in his thoughts. Regaining his bearings, he scanned the storefronts for the local watering hole and walked toward the entrance.
Upon entering, he looked around at the people sitting at the bar, some were standing in a group, and yet others were milling about glasses and mugs in tow. Ethan walked toward the back, noticed an empty seat towards the back and made a beeline for it before anyone had a chance to occupy said seat. That was the fastest he had moved during his walk. His butt barely in the seat, the waitress was already at his side, apparently seeing him come in and making sure she got his business much like he made sure to get the seat he was now in.
âGet you something?â was the only words that came. No pleasantries, no small talk, straight to business.
âBlack coffee, please.â Ethan replied, following her lead for lack of conversation. When she walked away, his thoughts immediately returned to the Braveheart, the crew, and what was next to come, not to mention the solid pip on his collar. He still hadnât quite gotten used to having it, but knew it wouldnât be long before he would be used to it.
âHere you go,â the waitress said, startling Ethan a bit, as she set down a steaming hot mug of black coffee. Inhaling, Ethan could smell a real cup of joe, rather than the replicated stuff he had been drinking on the ship this past while.
âThanks,â he replied, wrapping both hands around the warm mug. He picked up the mug, and sipped at the hot contents, feeling his throat burn a bit from the temperature. Exhaling a bit too loud, Ethan looked around making sure it wasnât loud enough to reach the others seated near him. Here he would sit, drink his coffee, and decide what to do after he was finished. He had nothing to do anyway, and people watching seemed to be a good time killer at the moment.
Tag: open
Promenade
0725 Hours
Ethan strolled along the promenade at a much slower pace than he usually walked, his hands clasped behind his back. The din of the people working, shopping, and conversing hadnât entered his mind, which was somewhere rather distant from the here and now of this place. He even seemed completely oblivious to the flashing lights that marked the doorways to the various shops along the corridor. Deep in thought was nothing compared to where Ethan was in his state of mind right now.
Just a few months ago, he was a lieutenant commander, at the helm of a ship. It was a good ship, the Braveheart. He thought many of the crew had shown a collaborative brave heart. They had started out a bit callous, but that seemed to change as the mission wore on. Once they became comfortable with each other, at least in Ethanâs mind, they came together and worked like a crew should, with and for each other.
Raising his hand to his collar, his fingers clasped the third pip on his collar. Now, though he couldnât see it, he knew the black filled pip was now solid gold. He had been promoted to full Commander at the end of the mission by his Captain, Don McGriff, though he hadnât really any idea why. Heâd done his job no differently than he ever did. He wasnât sure he deserved the promotion, though he wasnât going to fight it either.
When Ethanâs mind came back to the forefront, he realized he had almost completely walked a circuit of the promenade. Scratching his head, wondering how he had started out farther down, and ended up prior to the point where he started, he simply let out a brief chuckle for getting so caught up in his thoughts. Regaining his bearings, he scanned the storefronts for the local watering hole and walked toward the entrance.
Upon entering, he looked around at the people sitting at the bar, some were standing in a group, and yet others were milling about glasses and mugs in tow. Ethan walked toward the back, noticed an empty seat towards the back and made a beeline for it before anyone had a chance to occupy said seat. That was the fastest he had moved during his walk. His butt barely in the seat, the waitress was already at his side, apparently seeing him come in and making sure she got his business much like he made sure to get the seat he was now in.
âGet you something?â was the only words that came. No pleasantries, no small talk, straight to business.
âBlack coffee, please.â Ethan replied, following her lead for lack of conversation. When she walked away, his thoughts immediately returned to the Braveheart, the crew, and what was next to come, not to mention the solid pip on his collar. He still hadnât quite gotten used to having it, but knew it wouldnât be long before he would be used to it.
âHere you go,â the waitress said, startling Ethan a bit, as she set down a steaming hot mug of black coffee. Inhaling, Ethan could smell a real cup of joe, rather than the replicated stuff he had been drinking on the ship this past while.
âThanks,â he replied, wrapping both hands around the warm mug. He picked up the mug, and sipped at the hot contents, feeling his throat burn a bit from the temperature. Exhaling a bit too loud, Ethan looked around making sure it wasnât loud enough to reach the others seated near him. Here he would sit, drink his coffee, and decide what to do after he was finished. He had nothing to do anyway, and people watching seemed to be a good time killer at the moment.
Tag: open