Posted by Captain Alex Becket (Commanding Officer) in Nala’s Check-In with the Captain — Ready Room, Deck 1

Posted by Ensign Nala Shai’Mori t’Liriena (Security Officer) in Nala’s Check-In with the Captain — Ready Room, Deck 1
By the time Nala stepped onto the bridge, the noise had changed again.

Not louder denser.

The bridge didn’t chatter the way corridors did. It layered. Consoles murmured in steady, overlapping tones. Power flowed audibly beneath the deck plates, a constant, disciplined pulse that never quite stopped. Voices were clipped, controlled, professional yet always present, always moving.

Her ears flicked despite her effort to hold them neutral.

She kept walking.

The Ready Room door stood just aft of the command area, its surface smooth and unassuming. Close enough that she could feel the bridge’s rhythm through it. Close enough that the ship never really let go.

She stopped, straightened, and took a breath that didn’t go quite as deep as she wanted.

Captain Alex Becket, she reminded herself. Just a check-in.

Her tail twitched once sharp, betraying and she forced it still, clasping her hands behind her back to anchor herself. The low thrum of the bridge pressed against her senses from every direction, not overwhelming yet, but constant. Inescapable.

She chimed the door.

While she waited, the ship hummed around her warp systems far below, sensors sweeping, command circuits alive and alert. The sound crawled along her nerves, familiar now in an unwelcome way. Her jaw tightened. She shifted her weight, then corrected herself, boots aligning precisely with the deck markings.

You’re fine. You’re almost done.

The door hadn’t opened yet.

Her ears flattened a fraction before she consciously lifted them again. She swallowed, breath hitching just enough to notice. The end of the day pressed down on her not exhaustion exactly, but the cumulative effort of holding herself together through hours of sound she couldn’t shut out.

She focused on the Ready Room door. On the stillness of it. On the promise that this conversation would be contained. Brief. Structured.

Another second passed.

Nala stood at attention outside the Captain’s Ready Room, brilliant and capable and quietly straining, the bridge alive just beyond the wall waiting to see whether she could keep her footing a little longer.

Ensign Nala

“Come.” Said a voice behind the door as he was expecting the new science officer on board, who had then just gotten dropped off by her shuttle.

Captain Alex Becket
Commanding Officer
U.S.S. Ark Angel

The door slid open at the Captain’s summons.

Nala stepped into the Ready Room and felt the bridge press closer behind her as the door sealed.

The space was quieter, yes, but not isolated. The ship still bled through the bulkheads: a muted command hum, the low-frequency pulse of power routing, the faint echo of voices and consoles just beyond the wall. The Ready Room didn’t silence the Ark Angel so much as contain it.

Her ears flicked before she caught them.

She moved forward anyway, spine straight, stride precise. Training overrode discomfort, even as the noise threaded through her head like static she couldn’t quite tune out. The effort of holding her tail still cost more than it should have.

She stopped at the appropriate distance from the desk and snapped to attention.

“Ensign Nala Shai’Mori t’Liriena,” she said.

Her voice came out a fraction faster than regulation. Clear. Controlled. Tight around the edges.

“Reporting for duty, sir.”

She held the posture hands clasped behind her back, shoulders square while the ship hummed beneath her feet. Her ears fought for neutral and mostly won. Her tail gave a single, restrained twitch before she locked it down again.

She did not look distracted.

She did not look weak.

But anyone paying close attention would notice the way her breathing was just slightly too shallow, as if she were rationing it saving what composure she had left for the conversation ahead.

Ensign Nala