Lieutenant Saxon Kreeger stepped into the USS Manhattan’s mess hall just as the lunch crowd began to swell. Security shifts rarely lined up with regular meal hours, so he had learned to appreciate the quieter moments before the room filled with conversation and laughter.

Collecting a tray from the replicator, he opted for a simple meal: grilled chicken, roasted vegetables, a baked potato, and a mug of black coffee. Nothing extravagant—just enough to refuel before returning to duty.

His gold-shouldered uniform stood out among the gathering officers and enlisted personnel, earning the occasional nod from crew members as he made his way through the room. Kreeger returned each greeting with a brief smile or respectful inclination of his head. He believed the Chief of Security should be approachable. Crew members who trusted their department head were far more likely to speak up when something seemed amiss.

Choosing a table that offered an unobstructed view of the mess hall entrances, old habits taking over without conscious thought, Saxon set down his tray and took his first sip of coffee.

Around him, conversations drifted from holodeck tournaments to engineering projects and speculation about the Manhattan’s next assignment. The ordinary rhythm of shipboard life was something he never took for granted. A calm ship was often a secure ship.

For the moment, there were no alerts demanding his attention, no security reports requiring immediate action, and no investigations waiting on his desk.

It was simply lunch—a brief pause in the day’s responsibilities before duty called once again.

Lt. Saxon Kreeger
Chief of Security
USS MANHATTAN