Posted by Ensign Nala Shai’Mori t’Liriena (Science Officer) in Nala’s Arrival — USS Ark Angel
The shuttle’s docking clamps engaged with a heavy thunk that Nala felt through the deck plates.

The hatch cycled.

The moment it opened, the Ark Angel hit her like a wall.

Sound layered, massive, omnipresent.

Not the chaotic noise of a station, but something worse: power disciplined into motion. Structural resonance rolled through the bay in deep, chest-level vibrations. Overhead machinery thrummed in overlapping frequencies. Voices echoed off duranium in a dozen directions at once, filtered through translators and helmets and comm units her ears could still pick apart far too easily.

Her ears flattened hard before she could stop them.

Stars

She froze for half a second on the shuttle ramp, claws biting lightly into the deck as her body tried to decide whether this was danger or merely… too much.

This ship was enormous. Awake. Running at scale.

Loud.

Not figuratively. Physically. The noise pressed against her senses like gravity at an uncomfortable setting, not crushing but relentless no gaps, no quiet seams to slip into.

Nala swallowed and forced herself forward.

Training first. Instinct later.

She stepped onto the deck, tail held rigidly still, spine straight, eyes forward. Her mind raced ahead of the sound, cataloging instead of reacting: engine harmonics, traffic patterns, impulse cycling, power routing through the hull. She latched onto the structure of it, broke the overwhelm into systems she understood.

It’s not chaos. It’s information.

Her breathing threatened to speed up. She slowed it deliberately, counting, grounding herself the way counseling had drilled into her during Academy practicum. The pressure didn’t go away but it stopped climbing.

Barely.

Crew moved around her with practiced ease. None of them flinched. None of them noticed the way the deck seemed to vibrate straight through her bones. That helped more than she expected. If this was normal for them, then it was survivable for her.

She reached the shuttle bay office and checked in by the book, voice a touch faster than regulation but clear. Orders received. PADD accepted. No questions asked.

Good. Efficient. Contained.

Her quarters assignment blinked onto the display: Deck 11, Saucer Section.

She nodded once, thanked the duty officer, and turned back into the corridor flow.

The turbolift ride didn’t help.

The enclosed space amplified the ship’s hum, turned vibration into something that crawled up her legs and into her spine. Her ears twitched despite her best efforts; her tail flicked once before she forced it still again, jaw tightening.

Hold it. Just hold it.

Deck 11 was quieter than the bay—but only by comparison.

When she stepped into her assigned quarters, the door sealing behind her, the noise dulled… but it didn’t disappear. The ship was still there, present in the walls, in the floor, in the air itself. The hum had edges. The silence she’d hoped for simply wasn’t part of this place yet.

She set her bag down with careful precision.

Uniform jacket hung. PADD placed on the desk. Boots aligned beneath the bed.

Order. Structure. Familiar anchors.

Her schedule chimed softly mercifully soft drawing her attention before her thoughts could spiral.

Initial assignment briefing. Science Division. Medical intake. One hour.

Nala exhaled slowly, ears lifting just a fraction.

No time to retreat. No time to acclimate.

Of course not.

She straightened, smoothed her uniform, and stood there for one last second, hand resting lightly against the bulkhead. The vibration beneath her palm was steady. Predictable. Not hostile.

“Okay,” she murmured under her breath.

Not calm.
Not comfortable.

But still in control.

And for now, that would have to be enough.

Ensign Nala

Spenn approached the wait area and asked whoever has there to listen, “Is there an Ensign Shai’Mor present?”

Lieutenant Spenn
Chief Medical Officer