Posted by Gamemaster Mischief Maker (Gamemaster) in Deck 12, Cargo Bay- Main Sim
Stacks of grey crates rose on either side of the main section of the cargo bay, various colours tagging the departments to whom they belong. Itemized, cross-checked and catalogued, every crate had a place in the bay and in the ship’s computer.

This day, like many others, involved moving crates, cataloguing the new arrivals and ensuring flagged supplies were delivered to the right department. It was an often mindless task, but for Ensign Albert Morton it was beautiful. He brought a sense of order to the chaos of a multitude of delivery shipments and thus he made a great Operations officer. Working under the engineering department he was a resource allocator. Not THE resource allocator, but a stalwart of department. Maybe it was because he had little in the way of ambition that he hadn’t yet been promoted, but he was happy biding his time. And while he did that, he could have a little fun.

The cadets were an interesting bunch and he had to say that he really enjoyed working on an Academy ship. It certainly wasn’t boring! So as the cadets did the grunt work of checking in with him while they came and went to gather supply requisitions, he had taken to playing games to keep the whole process from being monotonous. And so, five hours into his shift and overdue for his break, he was trying hard to keep the energy up before he took a break.

“Okay, who is next? If you don’t know why you’re here, hand me the PADD your department head or whomever gave you and we’ll sort out your cargo,” Morton said, peering down at his master supply list and back up to the cadets and other junior officers doing their various versions of scut work.

~Mischief Maker

P’Mala Dawes made her way into the Cargo Bay and was surprised at the size of it. When she’d first boarded the ship, a majority of the new cadets and all the supplies for the coming deployment hadn’t arrived yet–but there sure were here now–arranged in a way that was pleasing to the half-Vulcan doctor.

The CMO had asked Dawes to come to the bay as part of her duties, but she wasn’t sure exactly why.

Frankenstein said, find Ensign Morton, P’Mala thought. She quickly looked him up on her PADD and matched his headshot to the man with the list in the middle of the organized chaos. She lined up with the other cadets who were swarming the scene. At 6’ tall, she stood a head above most of them and tried to keep a neutral face amidst all the sturm and drang–even though she detested crowds.

-Cadet P’Mala Dawes