The ambient hum of the USS Chimera’s warp core vibrations provided a steady, low-frequency rhythm to the room—a stark, grounding contrast to the erratic nature of human emotion he dealt with daily.
​Lieutenant Junior Grade Samuel Andrew McIntyre leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking slightly under his weight. He took a sip of his coffee; it was black, bitter, and bracingly hot, exactly how he preferred it. On the wall-mounted display, the soft, melancholic notes of Bach’s Cello Suite No. 1 in G Major looped, providing a layer of structured peace to his workspace.
​His office was a sanctuary of neutral tones and soft lighting, designed to put even the most anxious crewmembers at ease. But right now, the only person here was Sam, and he was currently engaged in the one thing that never failed to stress him out: administration.
​Current Activity: Administrative Filing
​Status: In Progress
Priority: Standard
​Sam tapped a final authorization code into his PADD, the chime confirming the submission of the monthly stress-level assessment for the Engineering department.
​”It’s not just about keeping the ship running,” he muttered to himself, his voice barely audible over the cello strings. “It’s about making sure the people running it don’t burn out before we hit the next star system.”
​He swiped the completed file away and pulled up the next PADD, his eyes narrowing slightly at the duty logs.

Lieutenant Jr. Grade Samuel A. McIntyre
CNS USS Chimera