Posted by Ensign Vincent Boss (Security Officer) in Side Sim - Captain’s Ready Room, JO meeting the Captain

Posted by Captain Shock (Commanding Officer) in Side Sim - Captain’s Ready Room, JO meeting the Captain

Posted by Ensign Vincent Boss (Security Officer) in Side Sim - Captain’s Ready Room, JO meeting the Captain
Posted by… suppressed (2) by the Post Ghost! 👻
Vincent’s first step onto the bridge was a cautious one, checking his corners as he entered. He wasn’t truly concerned with any sort of danger, but for the first time in what felt like ages, he was new to this. He’d been on starships, sure, but for a man who’d been a Federation officer for so long, he’d never actually been part of the crew. He couldn’t quite identify the emotion he was experiencing. Eyes fluttering over the Helm and the XO’s chair, his thoughts wandered to his mother, to his sister. Someone contacted engineering, and he could almost hear his father’s voice in response. Looking out the main viewer he could feel that spark again, that sense of adventure and wanderlust that drove him to pursue Star Fleet in the first place.

But that was a different time, a different ship, he had been a different person. There was a seriousness to this place, a gravity to the work they did.

Vincent stood there at attention for a second or two, but he would not let a third pass. He wouldn’t allow time for his nerves to catch up to him. He wasn’t sure why a captain would want a one-on-one with just an ordinary new junior officer, but then again, if he was running a top-secret research and containment vessel he’d probably want to want to know all he could about the people he was working with as well. He walked up to the captain’s ready room, waited for the chime, and stepped in.

When he spoke his characteristic gravelly low cajun accent snuck through.

“Sir, Ensign Vincent Boss, Security Department, reporting. It’s an honor to be a member of your crew, sir. You asked for me?”

En. Vincent Boss
Security Officer | USS Leviathan

“Yes, ensign,” Shock said, rising from his seat to greet his new arrival. “It is agreeable to meet you. I am captain Shock, commanding officer. Please, sit down.”

Shock regarded the ensign before him. To Shock, Boss had a striking appearance. A red bushy beard, shaved head (with some outgrowth), Orion tattoos along his neck (despite being human) up to his ears. It was not a usual look for an ensign. Usually, they’d be clean-cut, having an anonymous-kind of a look. But Boss was no usual ensign. Shock had read Boss’s file – there was trauma, abduction, three years of being enslaved. Yet, upon rescue, it seemed that Boss had passed all medical and psychological evals, and wanted to go back to space, in service of Starfleet. Clearly there was something remarkable about him.

“At the moment,” Shock said, his deadpan face giving no indication of his thoughts or (however repressed) feelings, “there is no chief of security. That is what I need to discuss with you. You will have to report to Lieutenant Commander Adam Magnusson, Chief Intelligence Officer, in the meantime, until a chief of security has been assigned. How are you finding this ship and its crew? I am curious, please speak freely.”

Shock, Captain
Commanding Officer

The ensign sat as requested, maintaining his posture, his hands folding into almost a meditative-like resting point in his lap. Vincent studied Shock as he spoke. Vulcan. There was some sense of…relief? The security officer’s shoulders even relaxed a little. He didn’t have to put on a social mask with this one. No need for empathetic smiles or dancing around feelings. He could be straight to the point.

He nodded at the order to see LtCmdr Magnussen, his thumb tapping on top of his fingers at the news of having no Chief of Security. Understaffed, as is always the issue. Security hadn’t been his chosen department in the Academy but it was one he adopted, he had hoped to have someone more directly above him to check his work. No matter. Ensign Boss was confident in his abilites, and perhaps reporting to the Intelligence Department might help him increase his usefulness.

He cleared his throat, “She’s a beautiful vessel, sir, though I’m sure you’ve heard that plenty. Top-of-the-line, taken care of with love. I couldn’t be more grateful to fly the night sky on her. As for the crew, they seem capable across the board, although perhaps more friendly than I was expecting. You could almost forget the kind of things we have locked away in the basement,” there was a slight twitch in his left eye as he hesitated before continuing, “Speaking freely, sir…over the past two years, living mostly on-world, I found the beds were too soft. I find the beds here are no less so. It is better than I was, I can get used to it in time…but I’m always better with work.” and then perhaps the first hint of a smile in the corner of his mouth, “L’oisiveté est la mère de tous les vices, as my Pépé would say.”

En. Vincent Boss
Security Officer | USS Leviathan

The proverb lingered in Shock’s mind. In Paris, he had heard it by young local interns in the administrative corridors of the Federation Council, as a way to rationalize the far-too-long hours and endless work that the politicians with their various whims would inflict on them. But for Shock, idleness itself had been a tool: sitting in corridors, cafés, walking in the park, all while feigning uselessness while he listened. Shock recognized, however, that for Boss it was likely something else. He had read the record: three years in captivity, every moment shaped by vigilance, and possibly accumulated complex trauma. Shock’s hypothesis was that Boss felt that stillness was unsafe and softness suspect. The ensign’s posture was disciplined, but his words betrayed the deeper pattern. Shock recognized it. He knew the dangers of avoidance, of filling silence only to hold memory at bay. He wished to acknowledge it without prying, to meet the man as he was, not as the file described.

He inclined his head. “I note your candour, ensign. While idleness has its dangers, so does denying oneself rest. On this ship you will find both work and rest. Rest, recuperation and recovery are important for good work.” His tone was even, but deliberately steady rather than cold. “As for the beds… the yeoman responsible for crew quarters, Mr Laion, can assist you adjusting the mattress.” The words were simple, but he intended them as signal: needs could be spoken here, and met without judgment. Whether Boss received it as such was uncertain, but for now, it was enough.

At the same time, Shock thought it prudent to seek to build more bridges with his new crewmember.

“It has been some years since I heard French. Hearing it again is nostalgic, anchoring me in my personal narrative. I spent five years in Paris.”

Shock, Captain
Commanding Officer

Vincent nodded with full respect to the advice from his captain. It came from a genuine place, but his response was very practiced, as though rest is just as important as work was something he heard often from superiors. Still, he released a little more tension at the mention of the yeoman, blinking in appreciation.

A small wistful smile passed over the ensign’s face at the mention of Paris, “I’m certain, no doubt, that you’ve heard the tongue with better pronunciation than that. French was where I first started getting fascinated with language, my parents spoke it to each other when they didn’t want us to know what they were saying. But my father spoke some bastardedized mix of Lousiana Creole and Kweol, and my mother was Belgian, so they could barely understand each other already.” He looked out the viewport as he remnisced, “I think a younger version of me would’ve been envious of being in a big city. I was at the campus on Kalo-3: long wet and dry seasons, endless black sand, wetlands and rice farms as far as the eye could see. In my youth I hated it, I couldn’t get away fast enough, yet now I think I miss it.”

En. Vincent Boss
Security Officer | USS Leviathan

Shock listened, noting the softening of the ensign’s voice as he spoke of Kalo-3. There was affection there, even within distance. A familiar pattern. He had observed it in others, and, if he were honest, in himself. Paris had once irritated him with its density and sound; years later, its memory had become unexpectedly grounding.

“You describe your home with precision, Ensign,” Shock said. “A sense of place endures, even across stars. It is not illogical to miss what once confined us.” He paused, gaze distant for a breath. “I was born in K’taal, two hundred and twenty kilometres inland from Raal. It’s a dry country, filled with sand and basalt. When the wind carried the storms across the flats, the air itself seemed to crack. I did not value it until I left. Perhaps the experience of it now is what we might term nostalgia.”

He inclined his head slightly. “If you ever wish to revisit Kalo-3, the cultural database contains accurate simulations you can bring about on holodeck. It cannot reproduce the fullness of the experience, but it may offer some solace.”

Shock, Captain
Commanding Officer (Outgoing)