09-14-2010, 03:23 PM
[Please note: the following is a joint-posting by Lt. Lyo and Captain Zack Gillibrand, done via Yahoo Messenger]
USS Independence
11:45 hours
As he appeared on the transporter pad, Rylen clutched his queasy stomach slightly. He did not know many joined Trills that tolerated Starfleet transporters well, and he was certainly no exception. Every time he went through the cycle he felt as if he had been sucker-punched in the gut. Rylen sighed heavily as the nausea started to fade away and stepped off the transporter pad. He instructed the on-duty Chief Petty Officer to have his luggage put in his quarters, deck three section five. Rylen exited the transporter room, then asked the computer where the Captain was. The feminine voice replied that the Captain was in his Ready Room; since Rylen was already in the deck one transporter room, he decided now was as good of a time as any to report in to his Commanding Officer. Rylen and then-Lieutenant Gillibrand had served on the Bellerophon in 2374 when the young Trill was still a midshipman Cadet and not yet Joined. Rylen had not seen the Captain in person since 2378, although they had kept in touch and talked regularly vis subspace. Rylen touched a panel on the wall lightly and heard a chime sound. He waited nervously for a response.
Captain Zack Gillibrand raised his delicate cup to his lips and took a long drink of his Vulcan spice tea, one of his favorite non-alcoholic drinks in the known galaxy. He jumped slightly as the chime rang, almost making him spill some of the deep amber yellow liquid on the front of his uniform. Zack set down the cup gently, pulled up something random on his computer screen so that he looked busy, and gave the order for whomever it was to enter.
Rylen stepped gingerly into the office, letting the door hiss loudly shut behind him. Although he knew Zack very well personally, he had absolutely no idea what type of Commanding Officer he was; therefore, he decided to err on the side of caution and be as formal as possible until ordered to do otherwise. He stepped in front of the desk and stiffened as he came to attention.
"Lyo, Lieutenant Rylen," he said. "Starfleet Service Number 226-18525-6175, reporting for duty as Chief Science Officer as ordered, Sir."
Zack almost laughed. Lieutenant Lyo was being so formal and following protocol so closely that it was actually quite entertaining. He smiled broadly and waved his hand dismissively.
"At ease, Rylen," he said, gesturing toward the chairs in front of him. "Have a seat. Can I get you something to drink?"
"A raktajino, iced, if you don't mind Sir," said Rylen as he eased himself into the chair closest to the Captain.
"And enough of this 'Sir' nonsense. We've been friends for twelve years--I think we're beyond that, don't you?" said Zack as he placed the cup of Klingon-style coffee on the desk in front of his friend.
"I thought we were, but since you're my CO now I thought things might change between us. They usually do."
"Well not this time. You're still stuck with me on your friends list."
"I can deal with that," said Rylen with a slight smirk.
"I thought you might," said Zack, smirking a little himself. He took a moment to look his old friend up and down, very impressed with what he saw. The years have definitely been kind to him, Zack thought. He's even more handsome than I remembered.
"Well anyway, I just wanted to report in, let you know I'm here.
"So noted. Remember, there's that ceremony at 1900 in the Main Gallery. I expect you to attend--dress uniform."
"I hate dress uniforms."
"Me too--but this comes straight from Admiral Malloway. No getting around it."
"Understood," said Rylen, picking up his cup of iced raktajino. "See you there, Captain."
"Likewise. Dismissed."
[open tag]
USS Independence
11:45 hours
As he appeared on the transporter pad, Rylen clutched his queasy stomach slightly. He did not know many joined Trills that tolerated Starfleet transporters well, and he was certainly no exception. Every time he went through the cycle he felt as if he had been sucker-punched in the gut. Rylen sighed heavily as the nausea started to fade away and stepped off the transporter pad. He instructed the on-duty Chief Petty Officer to have his luggage put in his quarters, deck three section five. Rylen exited the transporter room, then asked the computer where the Captain was. The feminine voice replied that the Captain was in his Ready Room; since Rylen was already in the deck one transporter room, he decided now was as good of a time as any to report in to his Commanding Officer. Rylen and then-Lieutenant Gillibrand had served on the Bellerophon in 2374 when the young Trill was still a midshipman Cadet and not yet Joined. Rylen had not seen the Captain in person since 2378, although they had kept in touch and talked regularly vis subspace. Rylen touched a panel on the wall lightly and heard a chime sound. He waited nervously for a response.
Captain Zack Gillibrand raised his delicate cup to his lips and took a long drink of his Vulcan spice tea, one of his favorite non-alcoholic drinks in the known galaxy. He jumped slightly as the chime rang, almost making him spill some of the deep amber yellow liquid on the front of his uniform. Zack set down the cup gently, pulled up something random on his computer screen so that he looked busy, and gave the order for whomever it was to enter.
Rylen stepped gingerly into the office, letting the door hiss loudly shut behind him. Although he knew Zack very well personally, he had absolutely no idea what type of Commanding Officer he was; therefore, he decided to err on the side of caution and be as formal as possible until ordered to do otherwise. He stepped in front of the desk and stiffened as he came to attention.
"Lyo, Lieutenant Rylen," he said. "Starfleet Service Number 226-18525-6175, reporting for duty as Chief Science Officer as ordered, Sir."
Zack almost laughed. Lieutenant Lyo was being so formal and following protocol so closely that it was actually quite entertaining. He smiled broadly and waved his hand dismissively.
"At ease, Rylen," he said, gesturing toward the chairs in front of him. "Have a seat. Can I get you something to drink?"
"A raktajino, iced, if you don't mind Sir," said Rylen as he eased himself into the chair closest to the Captain.
"And enough of this 'Sir' nonsense. We've been friends for twelve years--I think we're beyond that, don't you?" said Zack as he placed the cup of Klingon-style coffee on the desk in front of his friend.
"I thought we were, but since you're my CO now I thought things might change between us. They usually do."
"Well not this time. You're still stuck with me on your friends list."
"I can deal with that," said Rylen with a slight smirk.
"I thought you might," said Zack, smirking a little himself. He took a moment to look his old friend up and down, very impressed with what he saw. The years have definitely been kind to him, Zack thought. He's even more handsome than I remembered.
"Well anyway, I just wanted to report in, let you know I'm here.
"So noted. Remember, there's that ceremony at 1900 in the Main Gallery. I expect you to attend--dress uniform."
"I hate dress uniforms."
"Me too--but this comes straight from Admiral Malloway. No getting around it."
"Understood," said Rylen, picking up his cup of iced raktajino. "See you there, Captain."
"Likewise. Dismissed."
[open tag]