Posted by Lieutenant Junior Grade Clinton Reed (Chief Operations Officer) in Stores crashes the party. Tag the CO

Posted by Captain Molly Holloway (Commanding Officer) in Stores crashes the party. Tag the CO

Posted by Ensign Clinton Reed (Operations Officer) in Stores crashes the party. Tag the CO
Being the last person he would let onto the bridge and knowing that the CO was only of limited patience with his shenanigans it seemed prudent to call ahead before trying to get past bridge security. =^= Captain do you have a moment, I would like to visit with you =^= he sent as he left the XO’s office. This meeting was the one he dreaded, as he hadn’t seen the Captain since the flight deck incident and he fully expected to get his butt chewed on.

Nothing to it, take your lumps and get back to work Stores thought as he approached the lift.

Clinton”Stores”Reed,Supercargo

The call caught her by surprise, but somehow Molly had been expecting it. Ever since their less fortunate encounter in the hangar bay that she had been wondering when Reed was going to knock on her door. She worried that with their ‘environmental training’ she had given him too much familiarity in the idea that they might have become somehow ‘friends’ and his intervention in the whole Hammor vs Hudson debacle had only made her wonder if that was not the case. On the other hand, both Hammor and Hudson were now gone so it might be the perfect time to address it.

The reply came a few seconds later than expected, giving off the impression that she was purposely making Reed wait. =/\= Holloway here. Meet me in my Ready Room. Holloway out. =/\= She looked her wrist chronometer and bet with herself how fast the chime would ring.

Holloway, CO

It took just the time for Stores to make the walk from the XO’s office to the Bridge and thus the Captains ready room. He had been expecting if not the Captain then at least the X to call him in to trim his tail feathers, but alas no. Not particularly surprising to be honest as he suspected more than a little psychological warfare on the Captains part. For the first time, as he straitened his ‘uniform’ he regretted that the ship’s computer still refused to issue him a star Fleet uniform. With a wry smile he reached for the door chime as he rubbed his boot toes clean on the back of his legs and slicked his hair back.

Clinton”Stores” Reed, Supercargo

“Come in.” The dry tone came from inside the room before the doors slid open, allowing Reed to enter.

The office was the polar opposite to that of the Dresden’s Executive Officer. Contrarily to Renveer’s office, here the work desk was the room’s center piece, with the social, more casual area with a sofa, an arm chair, and a coffee table, being pushed to one of the corners. It was clear that this was a place to work, not a place to socialize.

All the furniture was Starfleet issue, with the exception of the corner opposite the sitting area, where the bulkhead had been covered from top to bottom with shelves. A variety of different books and small trinkets sat on them, but it was clear that the space was not completely full. Small glass terrariums of different shapes hung from different places on the shelves, giving the room a much needed natural aura. On the wall above the sofa, a scaled reproduction of one of Claude Monet’s waterlilies paintings was hung, and finally, a few items rested on the desk, next to Holloway’s terminal. It was clear that these were much more important than the others on display – a battered copy of Jules Verne’s Journey to the Center of the Earth, a blue mug with UCLA printed in large yellow letters, a larger spherical glass terrarium, and a holopicture of Molly herself and Calvin Harris, the former Commanding Officer of the Dresden, smiling happily at the camera laying on the green grass of a park.

Holloway sat on the chair behind her desk. Her fiery red hair neatly pulled back on a bun, and her uniform seemingly perfectly pressed. She looked at her visitor as the doors opened, and she gestured to the chairs across from her, on the other side of the desk. “Ah, Mr. Reed. Please take a seat.” Her eyes had returned to her terminal screen and she tapped away on her console. Turning to face the operations officer again, she gave him a polite smile. “What can I do for you?”

Holloway, CO